


Let it be Known

by AWammysHouseDropout



Series: Burn it down, Build it up [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cold War, Drunk Sex, Dubious Morality, Edo Tensei, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Gift Fic, Good Orochimaru (Naruto), Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Neurodiversity, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Plot With Porn, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resurrection, Sarutobi is an ass, Sort of? - Freeform, Trials, Uchiha Sasuke Being an Asshole, Uchiha Sasuke Has Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Uzumaki Naruto Needs a Hug, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:22:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 70,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWammysHouseDropout/pseuds/AWammysHouseDropout
Summary: They say that dead men tell no tales. But when death suddenly becomes a bit more negotiable, a few of them decide it's time to speak up.//Wherein Nagato's mass resurrection brings back far more people than he intended, and the Kage Summit turns into an all-out war that changes the face of the Shinobi world//





	1. An Unexpected Turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yaodai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaodai/gifts).



> Yaodai came up with this idea while we were on Discord together, and my brain just went wild with it! So enjoy!

“Kakashi, there’s some more people over here!”

“Yeah, gimme a second.”

Kakashi moves stiffly- somewhat mechanically, like his body doesn't really belong to him.

Of course, that might be expected; after all, it hasn’t been too long since he was dead (or very nearly so). Being not-dead is gonna take awhile to get used to again.

He helps a mother pull her two children from the ruins of their home, along with their grandmother and pet dog.

A man who must certainly be the children’s father comes sprinting toward them. He drops to his knees, sobbing helplessly while embracing the both of them.

Kakashi silently excuses himself, hurrying to find a quiet alcove to gather himself.

It’s normal to be frazzled in this situation, he reminds himself. The village is levelled, after all. People are terrified, and confused- so it’s normal that he is, too. 

Especially after dying.

(Damn, does he have a headache.)

He rubs circles on his temples, trying to get his brain to  _ shut the fuck up _ for about five seconds.

Focus. He has to focus. They have to get everyone out of the wreckage and safe before they can even think about cleaning up the mess.

“You alright?”

(Of course. Of course Gai had to find him. Of fucking  _ course.) _

“I just need a second,” Kakashi answers, waving him off and praying he’ll go away. 

“You sure? You look green.”

It takes far too much effort to keep himself from glaring at Gai.

(He feels like throwing up, but he’s sure there’s nothing in his stomach  _ to  _ throw up.)

“Yeah...I’m sure. If you wanna take a few people over and make sure everyone gets out of the school, I’ll be right there to help okay?”

His tone isn’t very convincing. He knows that- he can feel Gai’s frown boring into the side of his head.

“Alright. See you in a minute, then.”

(Thank god.)

Kakashi draws a few deep breaths, to gather himself.

He can’t shut down. Konoha needs him to get it together so he can help. So Naruto’s efforts aren’t wasted.

Right. Gotta help. 

He opens his eye and, with a deep, determined breath, emerges from his hideaway-

“-Where are my boys?!”

Kakashi’s back meets an upright slab of concrete with a sickening crunch- hopefully from the concrete, and not from his bones.

His first thought, once the stars fade from his vision, is that maybe he’s still dead.

After all- Uchiha Mikoto has been dead for the better part of a decade, right? So certainly, if she’s in front of him, he must be, as well.

Right?

“Where are my boys?!” She repeats, shaking him violently by the shoulders.

“I- what?” Kakashi asks, rather stupidly.

“My  _ sons!”  _ Mikoto practically shrieks. “Sasuke! Itachi! Where are they?!”

Kakashi blinks.

(Is this some sort of weird genjutsu?)

Mikoto slaps him.

“My sons!” She says again, her tone growing harsher still. 

“Hey, Kakashi-sensei, I’ve been looking everywhere for-”

Mikoto’s eyes go wide.

“Naruto? Is that Naruto?”

“Eh? Kakashi-sensei, who is this lady?”

“Oh my god- how long has it been?”

The boy scratches the back of his blond head in confusion.

Abruptly, Mikoto lets go of Kakashi. She grabs Naruto by the shoulders, black eyes boring into his blue.

“Where is Sasuke?! Is he alright? Is he safe?!” 

Her tone is less demanding now- more pleading. 

“Woah, calm down, lady  _ dattebayo! _ ” Naruto entreats her, shoving her away from him. “Slow down a little- who even  _ are  _ you?!”

(He really wishes Kakashi would say  _ something.) _

“Uchiha Mikoto!” the woman snaps back. “I’m thirty-five, born June first, ninja registration zero-zero-five-three-four-eight, rank Jounin. My parents are Uchiha Tenjin and Uchiha Kannon. I’m married to Uchiha Fugaku, son of Uchiha Yamako and Uchiha Takao. I’m Itachi and Sasuke’s mother and blood type fucking A. What the hell else do you need to know?!”

Helpless, Naruto looks at the woman, then to his Sensei.

Kakashi’s dumbstruck expression isn’t helping.

“Just tell me where my boys are!” Mikoto begs.

Naruto once again scratches at his hair.

“...I dunno where Sasuke is,” he admits, sheepishly. “Actually, it’s been awhile since I’ve even seen him.”

“...What?”

Naruto flinches.

“Well- lots of stuff happened really fast. We were taking the Chuunin exams but Orochimaru showed up and ruined everything- then Gaara flipped out so we had to help him- then everything went bad, and Sasuke ran away and-”

“Ran away where?!” 

“-I don’t know! He ran off with Orochimaru and-”

“-My son is with Orochimaru?!” Mikoto shrieks, terror in her voice.

“-Lemme finish, lady!” 

Mikoto’s mouth presses into a grim line, though it takes all her restraint to keep silent.

“...Sasuke was with Orochimaru for a couple years- I dunno what all they did together. But Sasuke killed Orochimaru and went off on his own again, and I dunno where he is.”

Naruto takes a deep breath.

“He’d made his mind up a long time ago. He wanted to settle the score with Itachi- to get back at him for what he did to you and the other Uchiha.”

Naruto and Kakashi can see the gears turning in Mikoto’s mind as she processes this information.

“...So Itachi is-”

“-He’s dead,” Kakashi confirms. “Sasuke killed him.”

Color drains from Mikoto’s face, taking a disbelieving step backward.

“...My baby is…”

Kakashi finally seems to have collected his wits.

“Listen, we can sit down and talk about everything later. Right now, I need to know- are there any others? Uchiha, I mean.”

Mikoto manages a nod.

“At the compound.”

Kakashi nods as well.

“Okay. Listen- I’m gonna get some people together, and we can see if we can figure this mess out, alright?”

He turns toward Naruto.

“Go with her to the Uchiha compound. I’m gonna find Yamato and Sakura and a couple others- I’ll meet up soon.”

“Yeah!”

 

At the gates to the Uchiha compound, Naruto is immediately greeted by frantic faces and panicked voices. Mothers call desperately for their children, husbands for their wives, children for their siblings. Somewhere in the distance, a little girl is screaming for her father.

Naruto’s blue eyes go so wide they might pop out of his head.

“What the hell is going on?” he mumbles- mostly to himself.

“Fugaku!”

Mikoto throws herself into her husband’s arms, squeezing him tightly. He embraces her back, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Where are they?” he asks her, a deep line of worry cutting its way through his forehead.

(Naruto has to try very hard not to stare at the scarlet hole where Fugaku’s left eye had once been.)

Suddenly, Mikoto pushes him away, tears welling up in her dark eyes.

“...Itachi is… he’s-”

She chokes on the last word, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle a sob. 

Fugaku’s breath catches in his throat; she doesn't need to say anything more for him to understand.

“...What about Sasuke?” 

“-We don’t know,” Naruto says, guilt staining his voice. “I’m sorry.”

Fugaku lets out a shaky sigh; his legs give out underneath him, and he hits the ground with a heavy  _ thud.  _ Mikoto kneels down with him. She kisses his forehead, stroking his prematurely graying hair while murmuring words Naruto can’t hear.

“I promise I’ll find him!” He swears to the two of them,desperate to offer them any sort of comfort. “I’ll find him  _ dattebayo!” _

Kakashi finally returns, Yamato, Gai, Sai and Sakura at his heels. They share a look of disbelief at the crowd of people before them.

“What’s going on?” Sakura asks.

“...I think it’s Nagato,” Naruto answers.

“Huh?” Yamato’s brow furrows. 

“That jutsu Nagato did  _ dattebayo.  _ He said it’d bring everybody back...maybe it brought back more people than he planned…?”

“But how is that possible?” Yamato marvels, to which Naruto shrugs.

Fugaku rises unsteadily to his feet, and glances over at Kakashi.

“How long has it been?” 

“Huh? Um- eight years or so, I think.”

“Eight years…”

He rubs his eye, and lets out another great sigh.

“And how long has Sasuke been missing for?”

“...Three years.”

“God damn it!” 

Fugaku punches the wall beside him, cracking the concrete. His head hangs heavy, shoulders slumping forward as if a great weight rested on them.

“Captain!” 

A wide-eyed man sprints up to Fugaku, gasping for breath from either exertion or fear.

“-Captain, you’re gonna wanna look at this-”

Fugaku takes hold of Mikoto’s hand. They follow the boy, and the others follow the couple.

The crowd of Uchiha immediately parts to allow them to pass; they walk briskly, just shy of a run.

“I can’t believe this- I don’t believe this,” the man mutters repeatedly, like a mantra.

Sakura lets out a little yelp of horror. Mikoto gasps, and Fugaku recoils. Kakashi turns as white as his hair, as if he’s staring at a ghost.

Water drips freely from the boy before them, plastering jet black hair against his forehead, torn clothing clinging to his body. He gropes the air in front of him as he slowly inches forward.

Gaping, bloody chasms mark the place where his eyes should have been.

“...Shisui?” Mikoto murmurs.

The boy’s head snaps upward.

“Mikobaa, is that you?” 

“Yes- yes, Shisui, it’s me…”

Shisui fumbles blindly forward, until his hands meet hers. She hugs him tightly, finally crying in earnest, not caring that the boy is absolutely drenched.

“Shisui...Shisui…”

“Mikobaa, what’s going on?” the boy half-whimpers. “I...I died, didn’t I? I swear I did…”

“-We all did,” Mikoto says.

Shisui’s brow furrows. His grip tightens around his aunt.

“...He did it, then.” 

“Who did what?”

Shisui straightens out, his expression growing serious.

“Is Fugaku-Ojii here?”

“...I am.”

“Where’s Sandaime?”

“Orochimaru killed him a long time ago  _ dattebayo.” _

“Killed-”

Shisui runs a hand through his soaking wet hair.

“...Who’s Hokage right now?” He asks, nervously.

“Right now it’s Tsunade-same,” Sakura answers. “But she’s...she's not gonna be able to do it for awhile."  


The anxiety in Shisui’s frame lessens slightly.

“Where’s Danzo? Is he still around?”

Sai makes a small, startled sound, and all heads turn in his direction.

“...Danzo-sama is alive,” he answers, his voice small. 

Shisui growls, reaching for the weapons pouch still wrapped around his waist.

“I’ll kill him-”

Gai and Kakashi each grab one of Shisui’s arms to restrain him. Shisui thrashes wildly, howling obscenities.

“I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him! I’ll kill that bastard!”

“Woah woah woah! Nobody’s killing anyone right now!”

“He did this! He fucking did this!” Shisui screams. 

Shisui- calm down.”

Fugaku’s voice is low and commanding, yet gentle.  The boy goes limp, his head falling forward like it were suddenly full of lead; harsh sobs wrack his entire frame.

“Shisui, what do you mean, ‘he did this’?”

“He made Itachi do it- Itachi never wanted to hurt anyone-”

He shakes his head violently, sending water flying in all directions.

“...Danzo wanted it to be me- but I told him to take a fucking hike. I tried to fix it- but the bastard stole my eye and tried to kill me!”

Shisui whimpers.

“He what?” Fugaku murmurs, in a dangerous sort of tone.  


“I wanted to fix everything- don’t be angry- I was gonna use the Kotoamatsukami to stop the coup d’etat, but Danzo wouldn’t accept it. So he stole my eye...he would’ve killed me if Itachi hadn’t stepped in.”

The other Uchiha are quickly gathering around them, murmuring worriedly amongst themselves.

“Itachi...I wanted Itachi to be able to protect himself. He needed to be strong enough to protect himself. And I couldn’t let Danzo get my other eye. So I-”

He buries his face in his hands.

“-I threw myself in the river. I had to. If I didn’t he was just gonna keep coming after me.” 

“...You mean, Itachi didn’t-”

“He forged the note- I told him to. But he didn’t kill me. He couldn’t have.”

Shisui shakes with the effort of recounting his story.

“Fuck...I really died…”

Despite everything, a shaky smile ghosts its way across Fugaku’s tired face.

“...I knew it.”

Kakashi speaks up.

“What do you mean, Danzo made Itachi do it? He wanted you to do what?”

“The massacre, dumbass,” Shisui retorts. If he had eyes, he would be glaring.  


A hush falls over the gathering.

“...After they heard about the coup, Danzo and the others pressured Sandaime to do something. Sandaime begged Itachi and I to try to buy time to work out a peaceful solution, but Danzo didn’t wanna wait that long. He convinced Itachi there was no other way- that Sasuke would have to die, that there was gonna be a war- and the only way to stop it was to get rid of all of us.”

Shisui laughs feebly.

“...You guys probably blamed him when I died, right? I wouldn’t be surprised- but poor Itachi must’ve been so upset…”

An older Uchiha woman (also missing one of her eyes) finally breaks through the crowd. Weeping in both despair and joy, she reaches out to touch the boy’s face.

“Shisui…”

Shisui leans into her touch.

“...Hi, mom.”

“My poor baby...my poor little boy…”

Gai rubs the back of his neck, struggling to process everything.

“So- what are we supposed to do?” he asks Kakashi. 

Kakashi looks around, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Guys-”

Attention turns now to a frightened, dark-haired girl.

“Izumi? Is something wrong?”

The girl points off in the distance.

A collective chill sweeps through the crowd.

Shuffling through the narrow roads of the compound, ghostly white and trembling- is an all too familiar face.

“Sandaime!” Yamato gasps.

The man raises his head, and stares, dumbstruck, at the resurrected Uchiha clan.

  
  



	2. Sarutobi Hiruzen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe the warm reception this fic has gotten! I don't even know what to say- I'm honored :')

“You bastard!”

Even with Naruto, Sakura, Gai and Kakashi all holding on, they still only barely manage to restrain Fugaku from lunging at Sarutobi. The man thrashes wildly, practically foaming at the mouth in his rage. 

“My son is dead!” he roars. “My son is dead because of you!”

“Darling, _please_ calm down,” Mikoto entreats him, stepping between her husband and the former Hokage. “This isn’t the time!”

Hiruzen frowns, but does not speak. Fugaku continues to rant and howl half-coherent obscenities at him.

“Sandaime-sama,” Sakura says, in a small voice, “it isn’t true, is it? You didn’t make Sasuke’s brother do it…?”

Silence.

“...C’mon, tell me it’s a lie,” Naruto whimpers. “Tell me you didn’t really make Sasuke go through all that..."

Sarutobi’s eyes grow wide, as he looks at Minato’s child- a young man, now. Still, he does not speak, too ashamed to even meet the boy’s pleading gaze.  


“Coward,” Shisui hisses, through gritted teeth. 

Fugaku has gone quiet now, though his one remaining eye still glares daggers at the old man.

Mikoto turns her head toward him, regarding Hiruzen with an icy expression.

“Please tell me, Hokage-sama,” she says, the chill seeping into her voice. “Did my son really kill us under your orders?”

(When she speaks like this, Naruto can’t help but think how disturbingly like Itachi she sounds.)

Hiruzen’s dark eyes dart around the compound, not meeting any of the angry faces staring him down.

“...I had no other option,” he says, finally. Defeated. 

“Bullshit!” Shisui snarls. “You took that sleazy old badger's word instead of ours! None of this had to happen if you’d just  _ listened  _ to us for once in your life!”

He clutches at his gaping, empty eye socket like it’s causing him great pain, smearing blood across his face.

Warily, Sakura lets go of Fugaku and walks over to the boy, tugging her black gloves off as she walks.

“Here-”

She grasps his wrist and guides him to take a seat on the ground, kneeling down in front of him. A soft hum fills the tense air as warm blue chakra emanates from her hands. 

“-I’m sorry I can’t do anything about your eyes,” she mutters. “But I can at least make the bleeding stop.”

“That’s fine.”

“Sakura-chan, I think Sasuke’s dad is gonna need your help, too,” Naruto says. “And that lady over there-”

“Yeah,” Sakura acknowledges. “Just gimme a minute.”

Shisui snorts, in spite of himself.

“Wait- you’re not Haruno Sakura, are you?”

Sakura blinks.

“How did you-”

Shisui bursts out laughing.

“What’s funny?!” Sakura demands, a bit miffed.

“-‘There’s this really cute girl in my class, and I really like her a lot- but if I talk to her she’s gonna think I’m a dork,’” Shisui quotes, smiling genuinely for the first time.

Sakura turns bright red.

“...D-did Sasuke-kun say that?” she stammers.

“Heh. He shoulda just gone ahead and went for it- you sound cute.”

Sakura’s face grows redder still.

She fumbles for her supplies for a bit, before regaining herself. She manages to get out the bandages she needs. She steadies her hands, and wraps them carefully around his head.

“There. Does anything hurt at all?” 

“Nah, I’m fine, now. Just gotta get used to the dark, yeah?”

(Sarutobi is still looking anywhere but at anyone’s eyes.)

A few Uchiha gather up planks of wood from ruined buildings, to create a handful of fires to huddle around when the sun starts to set.

Kakashi approaches Sarutobi, brow knitted together, arms folded.

“...Do you have any idea what Sasuke’s been through because of you?” he asks.

“I’m well aware,” Sarutobi answers, curtly.

“You’re lying.” Kakashi’s eye narrows dangerously. 

“What do you-”

“You can’t have the first damn clue about what Sasuke’s been dealing with because of what happened. Honestly, it’s insulting that you’d even presume to know the first thing about how much he’s been hurt.”

Kakashi grabs his arm, and forces the old man to look at him.

“Do you know that I almost had to stop training him for the Chuunin exams because he wasn’t sleeping?” He growls. “He had nightmares so bad he’d stay up for  _ days.  _ I was worried I’d have to put him in the hospital because of how bad it got. But he forced himself to keep going because he was terrified of what would happen if he didn’t.”

His voice grows steadily lower, and more menacing.

“He thought Itachi was gonna come after Naruto, or Sakura. Or that he’d kill me. Because we were close to him. He was terrified of his own older brother. He blamed  _ himself  _ for not being strong enough to protect everyone he loved. Do you have any idea what that does to the mind of a  _ child _ ?”

More silence.

“Shisui’s right. You’re a coward.”

Kakashi lets go of his arm.

“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” he says. “Yamato- make sure he doesn't go anywhere, alright?”

“Yes, senpai.”

Sarutobi lets out an outraged cry when large wooden branches spring from seemingly nowhere and bind him in place.

“I’m sorry, Sandaime-sama,” Yamato says. “But we need to make sure you stay put for awhile.”

Mikoto re-emerges, having found a random assortment of moth-eaten blankets that she passes around for everyone to wrap up in.

Kakashi stands in front of her, and bows deeply.

“Eh?”

“I was Sasuke’s Jounin sensei.” he says, with a hangdog look. “He was my responsibility, and I failed him. Please accept my apology.”

Mikoto frowns, then sighs. She wraps the last blanket around his shoulders, trying not to betray too much of her sadness.

“I’m sure you did what you could, Hatake-san.”

“Hey, we’ll bring him back!” Naruto insists. “If you guys are back then we definitely can  _ dattebayo!” _

Mikoto’s frown turns into a wobbly smile.

“You’re just like your mother,” she muses, ruffling his already messy hair, and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Naruto turns bright pink from the praise.

Sakura is wrapping the last of her bandages around Fugaku- he’d insisted he not be treated until everyone else was sorted out. His face is grim as ever, stony and unreadable.

“But how are we gonna get through to Sasuke?” Sakura wonders aloud. “We don’t even know where he is.”

“The summit,” Kakashi answers, before Naruto can speak.

“Eh?”

“With Tsunade-sama out of commission, we’re gonna need a new Hokage,” he elaborates. “I’m sure, wherever he is, Sasuke is gonna hear about that.”

“-And?”

“Danzo’s gonna put himself up for the job,” Shisui says, darkly.

“He won’t get it,” Kakashi assures him. “We’re gonna put a message out there for Sasuke to show up. And we’re gonna take his family to the Land of Iron to meet him there.”

“How do we know he’ll actually be there?”

“I’ve got a feeling.”

“What if that Tobi guy shows up too  _ dattebayo?” _

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Mikoto slumps down beside one of the fires, leaning against her husband.

“He must be so scared. My poor baby..."

Shisui manages to elicit some uneasy laughter from his clansmen by cracking some joke that doesn't reach Naruto’s ears.

He looks toward Sarutobi, who is still silent in his guilt.

His eyes burn with tears he wills desperately not to fall.

“...Why’d you do it  _ dattebayo _ ?” he whimpers.

The anguish in the boy’s voice is too much to bear; Hiruzen closes his eyes in shame.

“...It isn’t something you’d understand.”

Naruto lets out a sound similar to a wounded puppy.

“I thought you were the coolest guy ever,” Naruto whines, furiously wiping at his face. “I don’t get it..."

Sarutobi bows his head.

Naruto sobs, unable to hold his emotions back any longer. It’s a harsh, mournful sound that pierces the old man’s heart.

“Why can’t you just talk to me?!”

“...I thought it would stop the infighting in the village,” Sarutobi says, at last. “I thought it would be a worthy sacrifice for the rest of Konoha’s sake.”

“By killing Sasuke’s entire family?!” Naruto groans. 

“Konoha was on the brink of a civil war. It would have destabilized the entire country, and led to another world war. I couldn’t let that happen, no matter what it took.”

“But there had to be another way _ dattebayo!  _ There’s always another way!”

“I’d run out of time. It was the only option left.”

Naruto doubles over like there’s a dagger in his belly; the tears he had tried so hard to hold back come gushing down his cheeks.

“Sasuke had to see everybody die...it didn’t have to be that way!”

Naruto dissolves into angry tears, his tender heart overwhelmed by the horror that had happened on this spot.

(Naruto has always been tenderhearted. Just like his father.)

Hiruzen isn’t sure what he should do, or where he should look; all around him, he’s surrounded by the haunted faces of the Uchiha clan. Though they had been given back their lives, their eyes are still dead.

And Sasuke- how would Sasuke cope, once he knew the truth? Would he be able to accept it?

Gai and Sai have managed to gather together some basic food and water, which they distribute among the crowd gathered around the handful of fires. Sai has a troubled look on his face, and he keeps a careful silence, mouth pressed into a thin line as if he’s worried he’ll say something he shouldn’t.

“Damn,” Shisui mumbles, with his mouth full, “everything tastes amazing after you’ve been dead.”

The sentiment seems to be shared by the other Uchiha, as their faces light up, even at the bland, dubiously edible food and lukewarm water of questionable quality they’ve been given. The chattering around the fires becomes a bit more cheerful as a cautious optimism fills the air. 

As the world grows steadily darker around them, Naruto falls as fast asleep as though the hard earth were the most comfortable bed in the world. Kakashi is trying to coax Sakura into eating a bit more, insisting she needs to keep her strength up for later. Gai’s students have joined him in the ruins of the compound, looking worried as their sensei explains the situation to them. Mikoto is tending to a few of the children, helping them try to settle down to sleep a little. 

Fugaku sits motionless, the flickering flames dancing in his black eye. What’s going through his mind, Sarutobi can’t tell.

With only the fires’ lights, the stars are shining brightly overhead, the full moon keeping a vigil over the newly risen clan.

Sarutobi doesn't know what’s going to happen from here. But he’s certain he isn’t going to like it one bit.

* * *

 

“Are you still awake?”

Sasuke doesn't turn his head, his eyes still resolutely fixed on the moon above him. The masked man behind him regards the boy sitting in the grass with a curious tilt of his head.

(Perhaps his pride is still wounded from his run-in with Killer Bee, and that’s why he won’t look at him.)

“You should get some rest. You’re still injured.”

“I can’t sleep,” Sasuke replies.

The man calling himself Uchiha Madara does an approximation of a worried sigh.

“You should at least try. You’ll never heal if you don’t rest.”

Sasuke shakes his head.

“Well, maybe this will cheer you up- I’ve heard that the Fifth won’t be able to be Hokage anymore, so they’re gonna have a summit with the other Kage to determine who the Sixth will be. Rumor has it Danzo has nominated himself.”

This news at last makes Sasuke turn his head, eyes narrow.

“...Where’s it gonna be?”

“Land of Iron, in about three days’ time. Oh- and one more interesting thing-”

Sasuke can practically  _ feel  _ the smirk under Madara’s mask.

“-It seems as though you’ve been personally invited to attend.”

Sasuke quirks an eyebrow.

“Me? What for?”

“Heaven knows. But it seems like it’s important- the message has been spreading like wildfire, trying to reach you. Someone really wants you at that summit.”

“Hm.”

“Funny enough, I was about to suggest you go there myself. If Shimura’s gonna be there, it’s the chance to get the revenge you’re after, isn’t it?”

The boy contemplates this for a few silent moments.

“...Yeah. I guess I’ll go there.”

“It’s settled then. Although-”

He kneels to put a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. Sasuke flinches, but allows it anyway.

“-If you’re going to fight him, don’t you think you should get your strength back first? Being sleep-deprived isn’t going to help anything.”

With an annoyed huff, Sasuke brushes his hand away, and stands up.

“Fine. I’ll try.”

“Good boy.”

Sasuke shoots Madara one last glare before heading back inside.

 


	3. Sasuke's Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, bitches! Have some more AU stuff!

* * *

* * *

It’s far past the point of being late, starting to creep into the earliest of early morning. The barest hint of sunlight is just beginning to peek over the mountains, tinging the black sky the faintest pink.

But Sasuke still doesn't sleep.

How could he? If he sleeps, he’s going to dream. And if he dreams he’s going to see his family; he’s going to see his mother, looking so sad and betrayed, even in death. He’s going to see his father, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, though seeing nothing at all. He’s gonna see Shisui’s rotted, waterlogged corpse, resting in the coffin that Morikawa-baasan refused to let them close.

If he sleeps, he’s gonna see Itachi’s bloodless face, still smiling, still _looking_ at him, still haunting him and **_fucking stoplookingatmeI’msorry!!!_**

So despite Madara’s admonition, he lays awake, watching the night pass by through the dirty window of the ramshackle inn they’d called home for the evening.

Across the room, Karin is fast asleep on the only other futon. Juugo and Suigetsu had fallen asleep huddled together under their cloaks; Suigetsu snores, and mumbles something incoherent while nuzzling into the crook of Juugo’s arm.

Envy wells up in what remains of Sasuke’s heart. Oh, how he wishes he could find rest like that again.

(He figures Orochimaru must’ve been medicating him behind his back- the last time he’s had a good night’s rest was when the man was still alive.)

Uneasy anticipation weighs heavy in his gut, ice cold and foreboding.

He’s frightened. He’d never admit it in a million years, but he is frightened. Right now, he’d give anything for his mother’s arms around him, petting his hair and crooning the reassurances he’s so often longed to hear again.

(He’d give _anything_ to hear her voice again.)

Again, Suigetsu mumbles. This time, Sasuke thinks he makes out the word _“Niisan,”_ spoken with a hushed sort of reverence that makes his heart clench in anguish.

He wraps the thin blanket tighter around himself, fixing his black eyes on the steadily rising sun.

Madara would be here to wake them, soon. He should at least pretend to rest for awhile before then.

* * *

 

Fugaku paces back and forth like a caged tiger, unable to calm his mind enough to rest. He clenches and unclenches his fists, drawing deep, shaking breaths in some vain attempt to steady his nerves.

Morikawa has finally fallen asleep beside her son, her face still stained with grateful tears, her hand still loosely wrapped around his. Mikoto is curled up in a fitful sleep nearby, while Kakashi stands guard by Sarutobi. For his part, Hiruzen remains still, and silent, though his eyes suggest his mind is working feverishly- on what, Fugaku can only guess.

Kakashi catches Fugaku looking his way, and shifts uncomfortably.

“...I’m sorry about Sasuke,” he says, softly. “It’s my fault he ran off. I shoulda tried harder to get him to listen-”

Fugaku raises a hand to cut him off.

“-It can’t be helped,” he says, with a forgiveness even he is surprised he can possess. “Sasuke’s always been stubborn- I suppose he gets that from me.”

A brief silence falls between them.

“Hey- Shisui said something about a coup d’etat. What was going on?”

Fugaku shakes his head wearily.

“It’s not like we decided to do it on a whim. It was necessary.”

“Why?” Kakashi implores, confusion in his brow.

Fugaku finally stops his relentless pacing, a frown deepening the lines around his mouth.

“-For my sons’ sake,” he answers, his voice low and mournful. “For Sasuke, and for Itachi. So the world they’d inherit was one I was okay sending them into.”

Perhaps unconsciously, his arms rise up to pantomime holding a child.

“...You should’ve seen Itachi the day he was born. You’d never seen such a tiny baby in all your life- he wasn’t supposed to be born until August- but I guess nothing in life ever goes the way it ought to, right?”

The slightest tremor unsteadies his hands; he clenches them tightly to hide it.

“We were told he wasn’t going to make it- his lungs were far too weak, his blood was far too thin, he was far too small to possibly survive; with the war going on, there was no way to get what they needed to even try to save him. We named him after Mikoto’s grandfather, so we’d have something to write on his grave.”

His voice cracks the slightest fraction. His gaze is fixed somewhere in the past.

“The first month after he was born, we were just waiting for him to die. I’d never been so scared in all my life.”

Kakashi squirms, uncomfortable and unsure why Fugaku is baring his soul to him. But he doesn't interrupt him.

“He didn’t die,” Fugaku says, with a heavy sigh. “It was the first time he surprised everyone- it wouldn’t be the last.”

A half-laugh, half-sob bubbles out of him.

“Sasuke was completely different. He was born when he should have been, healthy right from the start. Itachi hardly ever cried when he was a baby- Sasuke hardly ever stopped.”

Another, more genuine laugh.

“Oh, that kid loved Itachi. Mikoto was almost offended when his first word was Niisan, instead of Mama. Itachi was never one to really smile, but you should’ve seen the grin on his face when he first heard Sasuke yelling for him.”

Kakashi can’t help but smile too, at the mental image of tiny baby Sasuke, eagerly calling for his older brother.

Fugaku’s smile quickly fades, however. He runs a hand through his hair, looking as though he were in agony.

“I was terrified about what sort of world my boys would have to face when they grew up. Konoha was rotten to the core- all the villages are. And they didn’t even trust those of us who swore our lives to keep it safe. I couldn’t bear to see my sons living in a world like that. And Itachi-”

He rubs his temples as if they’re throbbing.

“He was too kind. Too gentle. I knew this world would eat him alive. It _did_ eat him alive. And now it’s eating Sasuke, too.”

“We can still bring Sasuke back,” Kakashi insists.

“To what?!” Fugaku barks, his voice suddenly becoming harsher. “To a pile of fucking firewood and a shattered reputation? What is there _left_ to bring my son back to?!”

Kakashi falls silent.

Fugaku sinks onto a chunk of what might’ve once been part of a wall.

“...Do you know what happened to Itachi’s body?” he asks, letting the matter go.

“I don’t,” Kakashi answers. “By the time we got there, Sasuke was gone, and Itachi was gone with him. I’m sorry.”

Hiruzen watches the two men, still bound firmly to the spot.

Despite so little of his face being visible, Kakashi is so obviously in distress even a blind man could notice it. The barest tremor in his hands and the stiff manner in which he moves betray the turmoil going on beneath that mask. And Fugaku-

Fugaku looks broken.

He doesn't wail or scream or gnash his teeth, but the heaviness in his movements make his sorrow clear.

Guilt isn’t a feeling Hiruzen enjoys. Of course, he’s felt his fair share in his lifetime- though, none quite as acute as the ice cold knife which now pierces his newly-quickened heart.

(He’s glad Naruto is so soundly asleep- the poor boy wouldn’t be able to handle the heavy mood.)

Shisui awakes with a sharp cry of fear, shooting upright, covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Morikawa jerks awake as well, immediately reaching out in a vain attempt to comfort her son.

He isn’t the only one- every few minute, another Uchiha awakes, wide-eyed and terrified. The cacophony of moaning and screaming seems straight from the pits of _Jigoku_.

It’s a sound that’s going to haunt his dreams.

Naruto stirs, still half-asleep and confused.

“Wuzzat? What’s going on?”

He blinks, rubs his eyes, and frowns as he remembers.

“Oh...yeah. That.”

Yamato returns, looking quite pale- he obviously hasn’t slept either.

“Danzo-sama and the others are planning to leave for Iron Country in a few hours,” he says. “Kakashi-senpai, what do you want to do?”

Kakashi drums his fingers against his side, mulling it over in his mind.

“We need to beat him there,” he answers, after a moment or two. “We’re gonna meet the other Kage and talk to them before he gets the chance to.”

“What’s gonna happen?” Sakura asks, wringing her hands anxiously.

“I have no idea,” Kakashi answers. “But this isn’t something we can hide.”

He turns toward Sarutobi.

“You’re gonna come with us. I want you to be able to say your piece, too.”

Hiruzen bows his head.

“...I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“That’s right,” Kakashi answers.

He glances at Naruto and Sakura, and musters up the most cheerful expression he can.

“We’re gonna get this sorted out, alright? Don’t worry.”

Naruto nods.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can! And we’re gonna bring Sasuke home with us _dattebayo!_ ”

(That bright optimism brings about a surge of jealousy within Hiruzen. He wishes he could have that much hope.)

“You can let him go, Yamato. I think he’ll cooperate.”

The winding branches retreat. Sarutobi’s bones crack as he stretches out the ache in his limbs.

“I’m sorry about this, Sandaime-sama,” Yamato mutters. “I hope you understand that it’s necessary.”

Sarutobi doesn't answer.

“Hatake-san, we’re ready,” Mikoto says.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

If the situation weren’t quite so serious, Kakashi would have laughed at the stunned faces of the other Kage. Especially the absolutely flabbergasted expression of the Tsuchikage.

“This is ridiculous!” he exclaims. “Impossible! The Uchiha have been dead for years!”

And yet, here Uchiha Shisui, Fugaku and Mikoto stand, all stone-faced.

“I was dead, too,” Kakashi responds. “Or, close to it. Naruto said the leader of Akatsuki performed a jutsu that meant to bring back those who were killed in Akatsuki’s assault on Konoha, but it went awry, and now more people are back.”

Oonoki scowls, disbelieving.

“Who else is back?” Terumi Mei asks, looking quite afraid.

“...Sandaime is back,” Kakashi answers.

“Impossible!”

“I’d think that too, if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”

Gaara’s eyes dart between the gathered people as he processes this information.

“Look- I know it’s absolutely insane. But I swear this is happening, and we’re just as confused as you guys are. But there’s stuff we’ve learned that needs to be brought out into the open that these people are able to tell us.”

“Like what?”

“We’ve received information that my oldest son murdered our clan under direct orders from the Hidden Leaf elders.”

A collective hush falls over the Kage.

“That’s...That’s horrible,” the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter finally manages. “Are you sure?”

“We’ve received confirmation from the Sandaime himself. You can confirm it yourselves, if you want.”

“He’s with you?”

“We brought him along, yeah. I supposed you guys would wanna ask him a few things once I’d talked to you.”

“...You understand the implications of this, right, Kakashi-san?” Gaara asks. “You’re talking about genocide.”

“I know.”

“It gets worse than that,” Shisui growls. “Shimura Danzo stole my eye when I tried to stop the massacre. And I know for damn sure this isn’t the only underhanded shit he’s pulled.”

The four Kage exchange meaningful looks. And, finally, the Raikage speaks.

“Assuming this shit is true,” he says, “What do you want us to do about it?”

“At the end of the Third Shinobi World War, the Kage got together and drew up some human rights laws, right? I’m pretty sure more than one of those has been broken.”

“You want us to put a dead man on trial,” Terumi states.

“He’s not so dead anymore.”

Kakashi calls out to the closed door.

“Yamato, you two can come in, now!”

The door opens, and the Kage gasp in unison.

(Again, Sarutobi avoids eye contact.)

“Is this true?!” the Raikage demands.

“...There’s no sense in denying it,” Sarutobi answers. “Yes. Uchiha Itachi executed his clansmen under the direct orders of myself, Shimura Danzo, Utanane Koharu, and Mitokado Homura.”

Mei covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a surprised squeak. Oonoki’s eyes go so wide they nearly fall out of his head. A scowls, fists clenched. Gaara recoils in horror, a startled “how could you?” slipping from his mouth.

“We heard word the Uchiha were planning a coup d’etat against the Hidden Leaf. Such an event would have destabilized the entire country. We did what he felt we had to.”

The Raikage mutters something along the lines of “bullshit” through gritted teeth.

“Look, I understand there’s a million questions you guys wanna ask,” Kakashi says. “Danzo’s gonna be here in a matter of hours, and you can ask him whatever you want, as well. But, if I could make a request, I need you guys to wait awhile longer.”

“Why?!”

“We put a message out, asking Uchiha Sasuke to come here, as well. We’re-”

“That little bastard captured my brother!”

Kakashi flinches at the volume of A’s voice.

“I- I understand that. But listen- I’m certain he’s going to be here; I’m hoping we can reunite him with his family, and that’ll get him to cooperate with us. I’m sure we can find out where your brother is, if you’ll please be patient.”

A growls in the same manner an agitated lion might.

“Damn well better.”

Without warning, Naruto bursts into the room, flushed with anxiety.

“He’s here! Sasuke’s here!”

Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat. He tries desperately to stay collected, and turns toward his mother and father.

“You two should maybe stay here. I don’t wanna shock him too badly right off.”

“...Yes. That’s probably for the best.”

Kakashi heads outside with Naruto. The cold air bites his exposed skin; a few snow flurries begin falling around them.

Sakura is holding her breath, struggling valiantly to not rush up and throw her arms around Sasuke.

And Sasuke-

His dark eyes narrow dangerously, regarding his former friends with an icy indifference.

Karin and Suigetsu flank him on either side, while Juugo trails behind, as hulking and imposing as one would expect him to be.

“What do _you_ want?” Sasuke asks, dangerously, already reaching for the handle of his sword.

“Hey, take it easy,” Kakashi warns, raising his hands up. “I just wanna talk to you.”

“What is there to talk about?” Sasuke grumbles.

“Sasuke-kun, we’ve got something you need to see,” Sakura says, still restraining herself from her overwhelming desire to hug him.

Suigetsu glances at Sasuke, who seems to be thinking it over.

“It’s your call. Whaddaya wanna do?”

“...Fine.”

Sasuke shuts his eyes, briefly. When he opens them again, they’re the stark crimson of the Mangekyou Sharingan.

“But if you’re fucking with me, I’ll kill you.”

Karin unconsciously grabs Sasuke’s sleeve as they make their way inside. Juugo is as inscrutable as ever.

“You might wanna brace yourself _dattebayo,”_ Naruto advises.

“Oh piss off.” Sasuke shoves his way past Naruto, and then past Kakashi, through the door they’re walking towards.

“Sasuke-kun-”

Sasuke stops dead in his tracks.

“...What is this?” he hisses, through clenched teeth.

Mikoto puts a hand on her husband’s shoulder, her eyes welled up with tears.

“Sasuke, sweetheart-”

Shisui’s face lights up.

“Hey, lil cousin. I’d say how tall you’d gotten, but honestly I can’t tell.”

Sasuke’s teeth clench harder still, his hands balling into white-knuckled fists.

“...Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Breaking Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Sasuke didn't take the news very well.

“Sasuke-”

“-What the fuck are you trying to pull?! This isn’t funny!”

Sasuke’s voice is a low, dangerous hiss quite reminiscent of his former teacher. The Mangekyou burns in his eyes, fierce and threatening. 

“We aren’t trying to pull anything!” Naruto pleads with him. “Sasuke, it’s really your mom and dad!”

“My mother and father are dead!” Sasuke spits, gripping the handle of his sword once more. “I saw them die! I saw their bodies! I saw  _ all  _ their bodies!”

Karin and Suigetsu take a frightened step backward; Juugo remains still.

“Sasuke, honey, please listen!” Mikoto implores her youngest child. “We can explain everything!”

Sasuke flinches like hearing his own mother’s voice burns him.

“Put those eyes away, boy- before you hurt someone!” Oonoki scolds him. Sasuke doesn't comply.

“...You’re dead,” he mutters, still disbelieving. “He killed you...I saw it..."

He raises a hand to his forehead, grabbing a fistful of unkempt dark hair.

“H-he killed you. They told him to kill you-”

“How do you-”

Sasuke’s withering glare shuts Naruto up in a hurry.

Scarlet eyes dart from his parents, to Shisui, to Kakashi. They grow wide when they, at last, settle on Hiruzen.

“You-” he growls, animalistic and dangerous, “-you made him do it!”

The sharp sound of metal on metal, as Sasuke draws his blade. He lunges toward Sarutobi-

-But his hands are shaking. His legs are wobbly and weak; Hiruzen doesn't even have to dodge him. 

He misses, plunging the sword into the wall just beside the man. Sasuke drops to the floor, still clutching the handle. The tremors which started in his hands spread through the rest of his body. Hiruzen stares at Sasuke, a mixture of concern and fear in his eyes.

“Please, calm down. We can talk this through-” Sarutobi’s request doesn't reach Sasuke’s ears.

“This isn’t real- it can’t be real- It’s not real- it can’t be real,” Sasuke mutters rapidly, like a chant, like a prayer. “This can’t be fucking real-”

(This has to be a joke. Or a genjutsu. Or maybe, after all these years, he’s finally losing his mind.)

“Sasuke-” Fugaku says, at last breaking his silence and taking a step toward his son. “It’s alright. Just settle down- Sandaime is right, we can talk this through-”

“Talk?”

The noises that bubble up from Sasuke’s throat are either laughter or sobs, and even he can’t tell which for certain. 

“...It’s alright? It’s  _ alright?!  _ No, it’s  _ not  _ fucking alright!” 

His back bows, head falling forward like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, the laughter-sobs still falling out of him.

Nervously, Gaara approaches him. He tries to place a comforting hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, but the boy whirls around to slap it away. A seizes the opportunity, grabbing him by the collar, hoisting him up in the air.

“Where’s Killer Bee?!” He demands, giving Sasuke a rough shake when he doesn't respond. “I swear, if you don’t answer me I’m gonna wring your scrawny fucking neck!”

“We don’t know where he is!” Karin screams in terror. “Let Sasuke go!”

A seems taken aback by this answer. Mikoto catches her son before he has a chance to hit the ground.

Reaching into her bag with one hand and supporting Sasuke with the other, Mikoto rummages around, and emerges with a battered, filthy hawk plush toy.

“Sasuke, sweetheart-" she says, slowly, carefully-  "I know you’re probably too old for Takachin now...but I thought maybe you might want it back..."

Sasuke’s wide eyes grow wider still, nearly bursting from his skull. He snatches the ancient stuffed animal from her, staring at it. The blue button eyes of the toy look back at him, unblinking. He clutches the little creature to his chest like a lifeline.

“...It’s impossible..."

“Sasuke, I know you’re confused, but we need you to listen to us, alright?” Kakashi chimes in. “I promise, we can explain everything.”

Sasuke shakes his head, at a loss for words. But his eyes finally fade from crimson back to charcoal. 

“...Is he gonna be okay?” Mei asks, brow knitted in concern.

After a few moments, Sasuke rises, unsteadily, back onto his feet. Still holding the stuffed hawk by one of its wings, he steps forward. 

“Juugo,” he says, in a tone closer to his usual, though a tremor still runs through it. 

He grabs the taller boy by the sleeve of his robe, leading him out of the room. Juugo follows obediently; Karin and Suigetsu falling into step beside him.

“What are you-” Karin half-stammers.

“Sasuke- you okay?” Suigetsu mumbles. “You look-uh-gray.”

Kakashi throws out an arm to stop the others from following, and manages to snag Karin by the wrist before she can leave with the others.

“Hey lemme go!” She shrieks, thrashing uselessly when Kakashi pulls her into a tight grip.

“Should we follow him?” Sakura asks, joining Kakashi in ignoring Karin’s screaming.

“Give him some time to calm down,” Kakashi advises. “It’s no use trying to reason with him in this state.”

“What, you just wanna let a wanted criminal walk off with his wanted criminal buddies just because he feels bad?” Mei demands, having finally regained herself.

“She’s right!” A declares. “Whether or not he knows where Bee is, he and those brat friends of his still attacked my brother!”

“He’s not in his right mind!” Sakura pleads. “Please- Sasuke-kun’s been through a lot-”

“-Plenty of shinobi have been through ‘a lot,’ little girl,” the Tsuchikage scolds. “It doesn't make him magically unaccountable for what he’s done!”

(From the way he talks, it’s clear he’s still quite chafed about Sasuke’s run-in with Deidara.)

Fugaku holds his wife close, while she dissolves into tears, his face carefully blank.

“What should we do?” Naruto asks Kakashi, his voice small.

Kakashi shakes his head.

“Give him some space for now. There’s samurai all around the perimeter, and a bunch of ninja inside. Sasuke isn’t gonna be leaving here anytime soon.”

“With all due respect,” Mei remarks, dripping sarcasm, “you also thought seeing his family would calm him down- doesn't seem like it really worked out that way.”

Kakashi huffs, feeling quite defeated.

“Please, just give him a few minutes,” Fugaku implores. “If Sasuke does anything else reckless, I’ll take full responsibility.”

A begins pacing the floor, glowering at Karin.

“Well, if you four idiots didn’t take Bee, where the fuck did he go?!” 

Karin bristles, looking for all the world like an angry cat.

“How the hell would I know?! He tricked us with a substitution after just about getting us all killed! God, I dunno what that Madara guy told Sasuke to get him to go along with such a stupid fuckign idea, but-”

“Madara?!”

A pall of fear swells up in the room at the name.

“Uchiha Madara is dead,” Oonoki says. “Been dead for decades. How could he have told anyone anything?”

“So were a lot of people,” Shisui points out. “At this point, it wouldn’t surprise me if that guy managed to survive this long.”

Kakashi loosens his grip on Karin ever so slightly.

“What you’re telling us is that Madara is alive, and he’s affiliated with Akatsuki?”

“Affiliated?” Karin scoffs. “He’s the one calling all the shots! He’s the one who sicced that Pain bastard on Konoha- and he’s the one who sent us after Bee in the first place. He told whatshisface to go after the Kyuubi- that big blue guy with the freaky sword.”

“-Kisame,” the Mizukage says, almost sounding offended that Karin had forgotten his name. “Hoshikagi Kisame.”

Naruto yelps.

“Th-that scary guy with Itachi?” 

“Yeah, that guy.”

With a toss of her head, Karin flips her bright red hair.

“Like hell we would’ve had anything to do with that guy and his stupid rapping any other way. He was a total pain in the neck, and way more trouble than he’d even be worth to capture!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” A’s tone is dangerous now.

“What the fuck do you think it mea-”

She suddenly falls silent, all the color draining from her face.

“What?”

“...Oh, he didn’t-”

“What’s going on  _ dattebayo?” _

With a burst of strength he didn’t expect, Karin bursts from Kakashi’s grasp and darts out of the room.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

There’s a crush at the door as everyone rushes to follow her out. 

“What’s going on?!” Naruto repeats, hot on her heels.

“That chakra- he couldn’t have- he  _ wouldn’t  _ have-” Karin mutters frantically. 

She skids to a halt, her breath caught in her throat.

A familiar laugh echoes off the walls, sending a chill down Naruto’s spine.

It’s a low, cold, silky sort of laugh he remembers all too well.  


“My oh my, little Sasuke-kun. What’s gotten you into such a state?”

Suigetsu is cowering behind a pillar, making rather undignified, fearful sounds. Huddled in the corner of the room, Anko clutches at her neck, looking scandalized and violated.

Sasuke is in a pitiful heap on the floor, gathered up in the arms of a ghostly white man, whose bright gold eyes pierce through a heavy curtain of long, black hair.

Orochimaru gently cards his thin fingers through Sasuke’s tangled hair; Sasuke grabs fistfuls of the man’s shirt, his chest heaving with the violent sobs tearing out of him.

(Someone might say that this is impossible- but given everything else they’ve learned today, they’ve all learned better by now.)

“I killed him for nothing-” Sasuke chokes, burying his face into Orochimaru’s shoulder, muffling his voice. “A-all for nothing! He’s dead and it’s my fault, and it was all for nothing!”

Juugo undoes his heavy cloak, draping it over Sasuke as he cries, still not saying a word.

“You poor dear,” Orochimaru croons, cradling Sasuke’s head against him. “You’ve had a rough string of luck lately, haven’t you?”

Mikoto steps forward, to pull her son away from this man (this  _ monster),  _ but Juugo steps between them.

A shadow clouds his face, his large frame shaking.

“...Sasuke is upset,” he says, his voice ever-so-slightly distorted, an odd color creeping into the whites of his eyes. “Why can’t you just leave him alone?!”

“H-hey, buddy, calm down a sec,” Suigetsu stammers, poking his head out from behind the pillar. “That’s his mom, remember? I-I don’t think she’s gonna hurt him.”

Kakashi hurries to make sure Anko is unhurt. Karin dashes to kneel beside Sasuke, muttering reassuring nonsense and rubbing circles on his back.

A gut-wrenching howl of grief rips its way from the core of Sasuke’s being; he draws quick, shallow gasps of air that sound thin and painful. By this point, even Orochimaru looks a little worried.

“That’s no good- take a deep breath, Sasuke-kun. You’ll be okay.”

Sasuke opens his mouth to retort, but he can’t get any more words out through his panicked breathing.

Orochimaru sighs. 

“So be it then-”

He performs a quick hand seal, then taps his palm against Sasuke's forehead. There’s a brief burst of green chakra; Sasuke instantly goes limp, knocked out cold.

“...That’s quite enough of that.”

He glances upward, at the angry faces surrounding him. Sets Sasuke aside, beside his stuffed animal, stands up, and raises his hands in the air, still smiling that crooked smile that always bodes ill.  


“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t happy to see me.”

Swarmed on all sides by samurai, his arms are yanked behind his back and bound with heavy shackles; all the while, he maintains that smirk.

“Orochimaru-sama-”

“Don’t fret, Juugo-kun,” Orochimaru reassures him. “This isn’t the place to start a fight.”

“Good to know you’ve still got some sense in you,” Oonoki scoffs, though Orochimaru pays him no mind.

“You must be Sasuke-kun’s mother,” he says, turning his attention to Mikoto. “My, he looks just like you.”

Mikoto gives him a cold look that promises murder.

“Oh, but Itachi-kun got that scary look of yours!” Orochimaru practically giggles.

He turns his head, an almost paternal expression gracing those pallid features.

“It seems like poor Sasuke-kun is in a bit of a state at the moment- he’ll be needing his mother to look after him when he wakes up, don't you think?”

One of the Samurai shoves him onward, though his movements are skittish and fearful. Orochimaru follows far too obediently for anyone’s comfort.

“Such grim faces,” he tsks. “Why is everyone so-”

He trails off, having abruptly come face-to-face with the third Hokage.

Equal measures of surprise and anger are mirrored in the faces of teacher and student.

“...My, it’s been a long time, Sarutobi-sensei,” Orochimaru says at last, his smile growing forced, and feral. 

“Not long enough,” Hiruzen growls in response.

“Pleased with your legacy, Sensei?” Orochimaru asks, in a meaningful tone, gesturing toward Sasuke with his head.

Sarutobi shoots him a dirty look.

“That legacy is what  _ you  _ twisted him into.”

“And would he have come to me to be twisted, had you not shattered his entire world?”

That savage grin grows wider still, twisting his handsome features into something inhuman.  


“And what of Tsunade, Sarutobi-sensei? If she isn’t here, then she must be-”

“Granny isn’t dead  _ dattebayo!”  _ Naruto interjects.

The words slap the smile clean off Orochimaru. Naruto takes a step away from him. 

“...Granny’s alive- she’s just- she can’t be Hokage right now..."

Something like relief passes over his visage.

“-And I suppose Jiraiya is looking after her?"  


The question is surprisingly soft. Naruto bows his head, letting out a mournful whine.

“...Jiraiya’s dead.”

Orochimaru’s face turns into stone, blank and inscrutable.  

“I see.”

“Can we get him out of here already?!” Terumi whines. “He’s creeping me out!”

The samurai lead Orochimaru away; the man is practically docile, contrary to his nature. The chains around his wrists send an eerie rattle bouncing off the walls as he disappears around a corner.

“Hey, get off me already!”

“-Piss off! I can walk- you don’t gotta manhandle me!”

Sasuke’s companions are rounded up as well, headed for seperate rooms to be questioned. Karin and Suigetsu keep up their constant protests, while Juugo allows himself to be shackled and walked away without a peep.

Fugaku gathers Sasuke’s limp body into his arms, cradling him like he were a baby once again.

“...I’m sure he’s exhausted. Once he’s rested a bit, maybe he’ll be in a better state of mind.”

Mikoto strokes his hair, still distraught.

“My poor little boy-”

“-He’s not quite so little anymore, if you haven’t noticed. And he’s caused enough trouble he’s lucky we aren’t burying him  _ under  _ the jail!”

Mikoto shoots a look at the Tsuchikage that turns him paper white.

“I just got back from the afterlife,” she says, in a flat, emotionless tone (again, so reminiscent of Itachi as to be unnerving). “Do you want to go see what it’s like for yourself?”

Oonoki makes a scandalized noise.

“Woah, Mikobaa, simmer down a sec-” Shisui urges. “It’s all good, right?”

Mikoto shuts her eyes, briefly.

“...Yes. Fine then.”

Fugaku directs his attention to one of the samurai. 

“Do you have any spare bed or anything?”

“Um- I think we have some futons in a closet somewhere- if you’ll just follow me-”

Mikoto grabs Sakura by the arm.

“Sakura-chan, right?” She asks, her voice back to its usual, cheerful tone. “Sasuke looks a bit beaten up- could you look at him for me? I'm not a medic, see-"  


Sakura turns pink

“Me? Uh, sure.”

She falls into step beside Sasuke’s mother and father, fiddling nervously with her fingers. Shisui hesitates a bit, before following.  


“What an impudent woman,” Oonoki hrumphs, too quietly for Mikoto to hear as she walks away. “At least Kagami had some respect for his elders.”

“Well, you  _ did  _ just threaten her kid, Grampa,” Kurotsuchi reminds him, following him as he stalks off back toward the room they’d come from.

Naruto squeezes his arms tightly against himself, staving off a breakdown of his own. 

“I thought...I thought he’d feel better if he saw his family again...what did we do wrong?”

Gaara drapes an arm over his shoulders, in an awkward sort of half-hug.

“You did your best, Naruto. It isn’t your fault.”

Naruto whimpers, and drags Gaara into an embrace the young Kazekage clearly isn’t comfortable with.

“It’s a shame he’s such a hot mess,” Mei laments. “Such a handsome young man- what a waste.”

“I’m gonna get some air,” Choujiro mumbles, quickly hurrying away.

“...I could use some fresh air too,” Kakashi says. “Gimme a minute, alright Naruto?”

“Yeah,” Naruto responds, still distracted. Still worried.  

(He hopes Sasuke wakes up soon, so he can make it right.)

  
  
  



	5. Bear with us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danzo finally gets his dumb ass in here. Sasuke still needs to get some chill. Izumi chats up Kakashi a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the positive feedback you guys! It warms my lil heart :)

* * *

If looks could kill, Morino Ibiki is pretty sure this girl glaring at him from behind her thick-framed glasses would’ve killed him by now.

(He’s pretty sure she can’t break her hands free from those shackles, but part of him is starting to worry.)

“We can be here all day if you don’t talk to me,” he tells her, feeling his patience thinning by the second. “I’ve got no qualms about throwing you in a cell for the rest of your damn life if you don’t chill out and tell me what I wanna know.”

“I’m not telling anyone shit until I know Sasuke is alright!” Karin growls. 

“I already told you; he’s getting looked after, so that’s not for you to worry about.”

“Like hell it isn’t! Sasuke hasn’t- he’s never-”

Her shrill tone drops, becomes quieter. Softer.

(She’s never seen Sasuke like that before. Sasuke-  _ her  _ Sasuke, strong, stoic Sasuke- never begged. Never howled. And he certainly never  _ cried.) _

Morino takes a deep breath.

“Hey. You’re trying to help him. I get it. But you’re not helping him by being stubborn. So just talk to me for a bit, then I’ll see about getting you back with him. Sound good?”

Karin hangs her head, looking thoroughly defeated.

“Okay, why don’t we start again? What’ve you guys been doing with Akatsuki, and why are you with them?”

“-Tobi or Madara or whoever the hell he is grabbed us after Sasuke killed his brother. We went with him ‘cause we wanted to stick with Sasuke. And when Tobi talked Sasuke into joining up with Akatsuki, we followed him ‘cause we wanna stick with Sasuke.”

“What makes you care about Sasuke so much?”

“I wouldn’t expect  _ you  _ to understand,” Karin scoffs, with a haughty tilt of her head. 

Ibiki decides not to ask her what she means by that. 

“So then- did this guy calling himself Madara happen to tell you what he’s collecting Jinchuriki for?”

“No. He never told us jack shit, after he dropped that bomb on Sasuke’s head.”

Karin sniffs, annoyance dripping from her being.

“You’d think that woulda been a nice thing to tell him  _ before  _ he killed his brother,” she mutters.

Ibiki crosses his arms, and contemplates what she’s told him. After a bit of deliberation, he decides that she’s telling the truth.

“So it was just you guys and Kisame?”

“And that weepy lady with the blue hair who doesn't talk a lot.”

“You have any idea where they’d be?”

“Blue lady, not really. But Kisame got sent after the Kyuubi, so I’d keep an eye on him, and I bet you’ll find Kisame pretty quick.”

“Hm. See, was that so hard?”

Karin glowers. 

“Look, I told you the shit I know. Now let me see Sasuke already!”

“That’s not my call. I told you I’d go check if they want you to see him.”

“You’re a bastard.”

Ibiki doesn't retort.

There’s a crash, and a shattering sound from down the hall.

“I’ll kill you!”

“What the fuck-”

“Sounds like someone pissed Juugo off,” Karin yelps. 

The commotion grows louder still.

“I’ll kill all of you!” Juugo roars again.

“Okay, can you  _ please  _ let me go now?!” Karin begs. “He’s not exactly gonna care who’s in the way when he’s like this-”

Wordlessly, Ibiki complies with her request. But, funnily enough, by the time he’s gotten her unshackled, the commotion has ended- as quickly as it started.

“What the hell..."

Three different walls have gaping holes punched through them, and another is dangerously close to crumbling. A couple petrified samurai and a handful of interrogators stand gaping.

Juugo is doubled over on the cracked floor, trembling. Suigetsu is bent over him, awkwardly patting him on the head.

“I’m sorry-”

“Hey buddy, it’s alright,” Suigetsu reassures him. “You aren’t the only one having a bad day.”

“How did you-”

Suigetsu answers Ibiki’s unspoken question; his left arm turns transparent, as he passes his right hand through the water that had once been flesh.

“See, the thing with me is that chaining me up ain’t gonna do much. I was just bein’ polite.”

His arm returns to normal, and he stretches out with a great yawn.

“‘Kay, so where’re they keeping Sasuke?” He asks Karin.

She fidgets with her glasses, closing her eyes so she can concentrate.

“...Other side of the building. Near the place we came in,” she answers.

“Is he alright?” Juugo asks.

“I think so,” she says. “His chakra is calm, and the chakra signatures with him feel pretty similar to his; I think his parents are with him.”

“Heh. I wonder if he’ll finally be happy to see them once he wakes back up.”

Karin bites at her nails in worry.

“I hope so..."

"Do you think we should go to him?"

"...I think he's asleep right now," Karin answers. "Maybe- maybe we should hang back for a minute."

"Eh. Sounds good to me," Suigetsu replies. 

Juugo looks unhappy with that answer, but he stays back with them.

* * *

 

Sakura reaches for Sasuke’s hand, hoping that maybe her touch can reach him in his dreams. His fingers curl around hers unconsciously, and he makes a small, sad sound.

Sleep has smoothed that troubled look from his face; he looks so calm and at peace that a tiny part of Sakura hopes he never wakes up.

(But it’s only the tiniest part.)

His mother and father are on the other side of the door to the tiny room, talking in hushed, worried tones.

How awful, she thinks, that they should come back to life to see Sasuke in such an awful state. It must have broken their hearts to watch him fall apart like this. 

The door opens, and her head snaps up- but instead of Mikoto or Fugaku, it’s Shisui.

Feeling his way along the wall with one hand, he tosses her a can with the other.

“I found some coffee!” he declares, his chipper tone strained. “I figured you might need some- medic stuff takes a lot out of you, right?”

“Oh- thanks.”

Shisui finds an empty patch on the futon with his foot, and flops down to sit beside Sasuke.

“Sucks that Sasuke’s feeling shitty,” he mutters. “I thought he’d be ecstatic once he saw us.”

“...I thought he would be, too,” Sakura mumbles, brushing away a stray lock of Sasuke’s hair that had fallen into his face. Her thumb brushes over the dark circle ringing one of Sasuke’s eyes, and pity tugs at her heart.

Shisui cracks open his own can of coffee and drains half of it in one go. 

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be just fine once he sleeps it off. We just startled him, I think. It probably wasn’t fair to spring this on him all at once.”

Sakura nods. “Yeah,” she throws in, when she remembers that Shisui can’t see her.

“He’ll be fine,” Shisui repeats, when he catches her uneasy tone. “He’s got his mom and dad, and a cute girl to look after him.”

Sakura’s cheeks turn bright red. She fumbles to open her coffee to distract herself.

She and Shisui both jump when Sasuke moans.

Dark eyes flutter open, flitting from Shisui, to Sakura, to his hand (still curled around hers).

He doesn't speak.

“Sasuke-kun-” Sakura says, carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Sasuke shakes his head, pulling his hand away. He drags himself upright, tucking his head between his knees.

“Sasuke-kun?”

“...I feel sick.”

His tone is keenly childish, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Do you need me to get you water or anything?” Sakura asks.

“Where’s Orochimaru?” Sasuke demands, ignoring her question.

“I think I heard they were taking him to the prison,” Shisui says. “They’ve got a lot of stuff they need to ask him.”

Sasuke groans, clutching the sides of his head.

(Sakura is equal parts concerned and confused that Sasuke is asking for that man.)

The door opens once more, and Sasuke’s parents tentatively step in.

“Sasuke, honey-”

Mikoto kneels down beside him, wrapping her arms around him and cradling his head against her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she says mournfully. 

Sasuke neither leans into her touch nor pushes her away.

“Are you feeling any better?” Fugaku asks, his tone carefully controlled.

Sasuke shakes his head. His breath hitches, like breathing is hurting him. Shaking hands wander to his mother’s back, his fingers digging into her shoulders.

“...I missed you,” he whimpers.

(That painfully childish tone again.)

“I know, baby, I know,” Mikoto coos, rocking him gently from side to side. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so brave.”

“...Where’d they take Orochimaru?” Sasuke asks again, more urgently this time.

“They’re interrogating him right now, trying to figure out if he knows anything about what’s going on,” Fugaku explains.

“He has to!” Sasuke insists. “He knows everything-”

“You’re being irrational,” Fugaku says, firmly. 

Sasuke abruptly shoves Mikoto away.

“Do you expect me to be  _ rational?!”  _ Sasuke demands, a deranged half-laugh bubbling up within him. “You came back from the dead! And Itachi, he’s-”

Sasuke chokes on the final word, unable to spit it out.

He slumps over dejectedly.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way- I’m not supposed to hurt this badly-”

Sakura reaches out like she wants to touch him, but thinks better of it, and withdraws her hand.

“-He was supposed to make it go away...It’s why I went to him in the first place-”

“Sasuke, what’re you talking about?” Shisui implores him. But Sasuke merely talks over him, his words growing increasingly more erratic.

“-He was supposed to make it all go away- I was supposed to kill Itachi, then he was supposed to make it all go away- I shouldn’t be feeling anything anymore- it should all be over-”

Sasuke doubles over like he’s in agony.

“...I killed him for nothing...Itachi’s dead all for nothing..."

“We’re going to make it right,” Fugaku says, trying his damndest to keep his voice level. “We’re going to fix it.”

“Fix it?  _ Fix it?!” _

Mikoto tries to hold him again, but he slaps her away like her touch burns.

“Unless you can bring Itachi back, you can’t fucking  _ fix  _ anything!”

“That’s not true.”

Sasuke snaps his head around to glare at Shisui. Even though he can’t see, Shisui can  _ feel  _ the anger bleeding off him, and flinches.

“...Listen for a minute, Sasuke. Danzo and the others are gonna be here any minute. And Sandaime-sama is already here. We’re gonna make sure they don’t get away with that they did, okay? Itachi won’t have died for nothing.”

He clenches his fists to keep his emotions in check.

“I know it hurts. It fucking sucks. But you gotta hold it in for just a bit, okay? We’re gonna make it better.”

Sasuke considers his words for a few precious moments. 

“Hey, you’ve been tough for a long time now. You’ve gotta be tired. But we need you to hold on for just awhile longer. Can you manage that for us?”

After about five seconds, Sasuke makes a small sound of affirmation.

“That’s my boy,” Fugaku praises, managing the tiniest of smiles.

Sasuke’s face goes pink, the praise catching him off guard.

He allows his mother to hold him once again.

(Sasuke never realized how  _ badly  _ he wanted to be held.)

* * *

 

“Kakashi-san!”

Izumi hands him a cup of hot tea, to warm him up in the frigid prison. Kakashi decides to take the tea first, then wonder why she’s here.

“Who let you in?” he asks, wrapping his numb hands around the hot mug of tea.

“Nobody,” Izumi replies, with a sly grin.

Kakashi manages to laugh.

Izumi leans against one of the cold, stone walls, frowning at the heavy metal door Kakashi is standing in front of. The steel and stone block out whatever’s going on inside.

“Has he said anything yet?”

“Not a word,” Kakashi answers. 

Izumi huffs.

“How did Sasuke end up going with that guy, anyway?”

“That’s a long story. A  _ really  _ long story.”

Izumi frowns into her teacup.

“Danzo and those other two just got here. Everyone’s keeping quiet about what they know for now,” she says, bleakly.

Kakashi nods.

“It’s better that way. I don’t think jumping to accusations off the bat would be very productive.”

“What’s gonna happen now?” Izumi whimpers.

“Dunno. Probably a trial- I can’t tell you how that’s gonna work out. Probably a shitshow.”

Izumi’s frown deepens.

“If they could make Itachi-kun do- well,” she mutters, “what else are they hiding?”

Kakashi pulls at the back of his neck.

“I’ve been thinking that exact same thing.”

“Are you scared?”

“Absolutely shitless.”

Izumi giggles nervously. 

(She doesn't think it's funny at all.)


	6. What couldn't be forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's getting crazy, yo.

* * *

Tsunade briefly wonders if someone filled her limbs with concrete while she was unconscious. With a heavy groan, she slowly pulls herself into a sitting position, blearily looking around.

(So, she isn’t dead. Is it weird that she’s kinda disappointed?)

Tent. She’s in a tent. Because the village got trashed. By Akatsuki. Right. She gets that.

And she’s been unconscious because she’d tried to heal everyone. She gets that, too.

“Tsunade-sama!”

Shizune smiles through her tears, wrapping both of her hands around one of Tsunade’s.

“Thank God..."

“How’s everything-”

Shizune’s smile falls.

“There’s a Kage summit going on. In Iron Country,” she explains. “Shimura-sama nominated himself to replace you-”

“-Like hell!” 

Tsunade shoots upright, with a burst of strength that surprises herself, and makes Shizune yelp.

“I’m not letting that fucking badger be Hokage!”

“Wait, you’re still weak!”

Tsunade tries to stand up, but collapses into Shizune’s arms the moment she tries to take a step.

“I’m sorry, Lady Tsunade- I don’t think there’s much that can be done.”

“Damn it- _ Damn it _ !”

Tsunade isn’t sure whether to scream or cry. She grinds her teeth, disgusted with the helpless feeling welling up inside her.

She falls to her knees, slamming her fist into the hard earth.

“God damn it!”

“Tsunade-sama, please..."

Shizune practically shoves her back onto her futon.

“You need to rest. You can worry about everyone else later- right now I need to worry about you.”

Tsunade wraps her blanket around herself, silently cursing everything. Shizune offers her water that’s warm and tastes off, but she drinks it anyway. 

She knows it’ll take awhile to get her strength back. Time she doesn't have to waste. But there’s nothing else she can do at the moment.

Shizune wrings her hands, stepping outside the tent to try and clear her head.

Sunset casts everything in a reddish-gold. Somewhere in the distance, a few children are playing in the wreckage of the village.

“Tsunade! Tsunade, where are you?!”

Shizune’s breath flees her lungs in one great gasp.

_ That voice... _

“Tsunade!”

Shizune’s suspicion is confirmed, when a mane of messy white hair appears in her peripheral vision.

“Jiraiya-sama!”

The man sprints toward her, flustered and out of breath.

“Shizune, where’s-”

“Tsunade-sama is in here,” Shizune answers, feeling lightheaded out of the blue. “But how are you- you’re supposed to be-”

“-No idea,” is Jiraiya’s brusk reply.

He pushes past Shizune.

“Holy shit, you look awful.”

A small, strange sound escapes Tsunade. She raises a hand to her throat. Mouths words she can’t speak. Amber eyes grow wide, and wet.

“...Is this a bad time?” Jiraiya mumbles, bashfully.

Tsunade pulls herself onto her elbows and knees. Then to her unsteady feet.

“Tsuna-”

She throws herself against him- arms around his neck, head against his chest. 

“What-”

-A loud, painful wail tears out of her, as she clings still tighter to him.

(She doesn't care if it’s a trick or a genjutsu, or even if she’s actually dead. She doesn't care, because it’s  _ Jiraiya. _ )

“Don’t ever leave me again!”

Her voice cracks with emotion; her demand is childish. Impetuous.

Jiraiya lets out a noise that might be a laugh.

“Yeah, about that- any idea why I’m here?”

“Who cares?!”

Tsunade is threatening to break his ribs with how hard she’s hugging him. But Jiraiya finds himself not minding that. 

He embraces her back, while she sobs and soaks his shirt with tears.

(He doesn't say anything, because words would only ruin the moment.)

“-We need to go to Iron Country,” Tsunade says, out of nowhere.

“Say what now?”

“Iron Country. I’ll explain later. But we need to go, and Shizune can’t carry me there.”

Her tone has grown so deadly serious that Jiraiya can’t even think of denying her. He shakes his head, and musters up one of those grins that Tsunade missed so very much.  


“Alright then. Iron Country it is.”

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this. This is a really _bad_ idea  _ dattebayo _ .”

Naruto lags behind Sarutobi, biting his nails, blue eyes darting around wildly. 

“What if they don’t even let you see him, anyway? What if _he_ doesn't wanna see  you?”

“Well, I want to try."  


Hiruzen’s face is set in stone, his steps determined. Naruto fidgets with his fingers, desperately wishing that he hadn’t volunteered to stay with the man.

(He thought he could handle it. Maybe he was wrong.)

The prison is so eerily quiet- dimly lit and ominous. The passageway they walk through almost feels like the mouth of some foreboding predator. 

“I’ll take the blame if something goes wrong,” Sarutobi promises. “It’ll be fine.”

Naruto doesn't look comforted. He shivers when a cold draft bites through to his bones, and tries very hard to ignore the rows upon rows of samurai that turn to look at them as they pass.

Yamato looks like he might vomit, snapping to attention as they approach.

“Where’s Kakashi-sensei?” Naruto asks.

“I took over for him,” Yamato answers, sounding a little breathless. “He went with the other Kage- they’re gonna talk to Danzo-sama and the others for awhile before they tell him what they know. But what are you-”

“-We-uh, he uh- wants to talk to Orochimaru. If that’s cool  _ dattebayo. _ ”

Yamato cocks his head, a deep frown pulling at his mouth.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” Naruto says, honestly. “It’s probably a really, really bad idea. But Sandaime really wants to try anyway.”

Yamato mulls it over for a minute. 

“I...I suppose I can allow it. But I’ll stay here.”

Reluctantly, he unlocks the steel door. It opens with a sharp shriek that makes the three of them wince. Yamato stands in the doorway once the other two have stepped inside.

They’re greeted by thin, wheezing breaths, and a wet, ragged cough.

Even in the dim light, Orochimaru looks dreadful.  The right side of his face is badly swollen, black hair stuck to the bleeding gash on his forehead. Though his arms are behind his back, encased to the elbows in heavy iron, it’s obvious that they’re badly broken; they hang at an impossible angle, and he doesn't seem able to move them. 

Deep, wine-colored bruises bloom over pallid skin like the sickest sort of flowers, mottled and ugly across his bare chest and shoulders. He leans heavily against the cold concrete wall; gold eyes flutter open, turning themselves toward his visitors. 

“W-what the hell happened?!” Naruto squeaks.

Orochimaru’s joyless laugh is cut off by another of those horrible, hacking coughs. 

“As Sarutobi-sensei might put it, they don’t appreciate me being stubborn.”

Another wheezing, reedy laugh escapes him.

“It seems as though things are getting interesting again, eh Sensei?”

Hiruzen doesn't answer; his mind’s eye is taking him back to places it does not want to go.

(Orochimaru had been fifteen, maybe sixteen when it happened. A mission had gone so terribly wrong- he still remembers too clearly, Tsunade and Jiraiya bursting, panicked, into his office, yelling  _ “They got Maru!”  _ over and over, until he’d finally gotten them to calm down enough to ask who ‘they’ were.

They’d located Orochimaru in an abandoned military outpost in the Wind Country, nearly an entire month afterward, just as they were starting to lose hope of seeing him alive again. His ribs had all been broken, the nails on his left hand torn off, every bone in both his hands shattered. His lung had collapsed, wounds had festered. He’d had a horrid concussion too, one pupil blown so wide it seemed fit to burst; for the first week, he’d been incoherent and half-delirious from fever. 

He’d been breathing (just barely) in that same ragged, labored way. The first words he’d managed to utter were  _ “Sarutobi-sensei, it  _ **_hurts!”_ ** _ in a horrible, broken moan. _

[For months afterward, the way Orochimaru had  _ screamed  _ when the medics  re-broke his bones to set them properly echoed in his mind.]

Orochimaru had been terrified he would lose the use of his hands. He sounded so terribly pitiful when he asked if he’d ever be able to do hand seals again.

-As much as he hates it, hates this weakness, it still kills something inside him to see his once-favorite student so thoroughly broken, as he had been so long ago.)

Naruto waves a hand in front of him, concern knitting his blond brow.

“You alright?”

Hiruzen shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present.

“You gave yourself up so easily,” he says, keeping his voice as level as he can. “You did that for a reason.”

“Yes, I suppose I could have absconded with my merry band of misfit children, if I wanted to,” Orochimaru replies, his tone almost playful. “But that wouldn’t have been any fun.”

“What are you playing at  _ dattebayo? _ ”

Orochimaru shifts against the wall, allowing himself to let out  the smallest sound of pain.

“Well, dear Naruto-kun,” he says, with a smile that’s really just baring teeth, “I’m waiting for the wind to blow.”

“Eh? Wind?”

Naruto looks toward Sarutobi, puzzled; with the way the old man’s face grows dark, he has a feeling he understands the meaning behind the riddle.

The man sits, cross-legged, on the floor across from Orochimaru, and takes a deep breath to keep himself steady.

“If I’d merely told some nameless interrogator everything I knew, it would have been so dreadfully boring. It’ll be so much more interesting if I can snag a wider audience.”

“What’s that mean?” Naruto asks, growing ever more worried.

“Do you think Konoha only has one dirty secret worth telling, Naruto-kun?” Orochimaru asks. “Why, there are things I don’t even think  _ you  _ know, Sensei.”

He coughs again, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

“Iron country interrogators are so cruel,” he muses, possibly to mock. “Not nearly so refined as Konoha’s. I do hope they aren’t as rough with my poor students.”

Naruto chews on his ragged thumbnail, eyes fixed on Sarutobi.

“What’s with the troubled face, Sarutobi-sensei? You should be proud- this is the culmination of your life’s work, isn’t it? It’s just a pity Jiraiya isn’t here to see it.”

Hiruzen’s entire body grows tense. 

“...As if you care that he’s gone,” he says, through gritted teeth.

“Do you think I’m that heartless?” the words come out as a low, dangerous hiss. 

(Naruto wonders, if Orochimaru weren’t bound, if he’d try to bite his former master.)

“It would surprise me if you cared about anything besides yourself,” Hiruzen replies, flatly. 

Another smile that has no mirth spreads across those bloodless lips. 

“Give it time, Sensei. I think you’ll find I’ve still got a few surprises left.”

Another horrid grin, another ugly  _ laugh-cough-wheeze.  _ Blood stains Orochimaru’s teeth bright red.

“I bet he died for Konoha’s sake- Jiraiya was always  _ so  _ self-sacrificing like that. I wonder if he’ll have died for nothing, when all’s said and done.”

“Shut up!” Naruto screams, feeling his temper flare up red-hot. Orochimaru obeys.

“We should get out of here,” Naruto says, his voice suddenly dropping to a whimper. “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“That’s a good idea,” Yamato interjects, having gone slightly green from worry. “I really shouldn’t have let you two in in the first place.”

Sarutobi is surprised at how shaky his legs are when he rises to his feet.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Orochimaru calls after them, as the door slams shut, silencing him once more.

Once they’re back outside, Naruto lets out the shudder he’s been repressing. 

“That guy gives me the creeps,” he complains. 

Sarutobi nods along, but keeps his silence.

(He knows that look Orochimaru gave him. That look which means he’s planning something ghastly.)

He lets out a shudder of his own, worry twisting his stomach in knots.

“...You’re gonna fix it, right?” Naruto implores. “You’re gonna explain everything, and it’s gonna be better, right?”

Sarutobi looks up at the thick blanket of clouds above them, gray and pregnant with the promise of snow. Remembers the confusion and hatred at anguish in Sasuke’s eyes, the way he’d lunged at him in a blind fury. 

Remembers how Itachi (only thirteen, for God’s sake) had knelt before him, sobbing, pleading for his brother’s life, selling his soul for Sasuke’s safety. 

Remembers that day a lifetime ago, when he’d taken a petrified little orphan boy into his arms, wiping tears from wide, golden eyes, promising Orochimaru everything would be better one day.

Remembers the promises he’d made, that day an eternity ago, when he’d taken up the mantle of Hokage.

“-I’m going to do my best.”

* * *

 

Kakashi can’t help but admire the expert poker faces of the Kage, as they exchange cautious pleasantries with Danzo like they’re ignorant of everything. Even the firebrand Raikage stays remarkably coolheaded as they gather around the long table which will host their meeting.

(Although, perhaps that calmness alone should have warned Danzo.)

Danzo is all unearned confidence, taking a relaxed posture he should realize it’s foolish to take. He leans in his chair like he already owns the place; a coldly indifferent air surrounds the man.

“So, what’s this I’ve heard about Uchiha Sasuke being here at the summit? Don’t you think allowing him here is an invitation for danger?”

“I asked him to,” Kakashi quickly answers. “It might’ve been presumptuous of me, but it was my hope that if he’d turn himself in quietly, we could sort out the mess he’s made.”

(He’s lying through his teeth. He knows that, and the Kage know that. But they keep quiet and play along.)

“And did he?”

“Quietly enough,” the Tsuchikage scoffs. “Eventually.”

Danzo looks smug enough that Kakashi has to restrain the urge to punch him.

“He’s the remnant of a stubborn clan. I’m surprised he gave himself up.”

“He’s agreed to cooperate with us,” Kakashi adds, still lying his ass off. “If I could, I’d like to ask for leniency toward him. After all, he’s responsible for getting rid of a few troublesome missing-nin, and I think that warrants consideration.”

Danzo mulls those words over, stroking the scar on his chin in contemplation.

“I suppose that will depend on how he behaves himself for the rest of the summit,” he answers. “Then maybe we can work out some conditions for his release.”

Kakashi nods quietly, no longer able to trust himself to keep his temper in check.

“But sorting out missing-nin isn’t the point here,” Mei reminds them. “We’re here to either confirm or deny the new Hokage, aren’t we.”

“That’s right,” Gaara confirms, his voice abnormally quiet. “But I feel there’s something important we should discuss before that.”

There’s a spark of something in his eyes- something familiar that makes his siblings flinch. Something deadly they haven’t seen in their little brother in quite some time.

Danzo doesn't catch that dangerous look (that’s his first mistake). He raises an eyebrow, attention turned toward the young Kazekage.

“And that might be?”

“Nothing too terribly important- just a small rumor we’ve heard that we think you’d like to clear up for us.”

“-That’s right,” Mei says, after exchanging a meaningful glance with Gaara. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m also sure you’d wanna clear the air if you’re going to be Hokage.”

Still far more confident than he deserves, Danzo cocks an eyebrow at her.

“And what, exactly, am I clearing the air of?”

“See, there’s this funny rumor going around that you had something to do with the Uchiha massacre.”

Kakashi can feel Danzo’s blood go cold from here. That overconfidence evaporates so fast even Minato wouldn’t have been able to keep up.

“...Absolutely preposterous,” he says, at last. “That boy’s lost his mind if he’s making up stories like-” 

“-Yo, how about we skip the bullshit, and you tell the fucking truth for once?”

Danzo’s head jerks upward so fast his neck might snap. He doesn't turn it around, but he could never forget that voice coming from behind him.

“Sorry guys- I couldn’t wait anymore.”

Shisui rests his hand on the doorway, gripping it tightly to keep himself steady.

“I know it’s been a long time, Danzo-sama- but do you think I could get my eye back now?”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Shisui's tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, this chapter is a bunch of talking.

“You- it can’t-”

“-Before you say it- yes, this is happening. This isn’t a genjutsu, and it’s not because you’re a senile old fuck.”

Shisui turns his head in the general direction of where he assumes the others are.

“Mikoba and Fugaku-oji are coming in a minute. They wanted to keep Sasuke out of this for a bit, so they’re bringing him somewhere safe, if that’s okay.”

“Fine by me,” Kakashi says.

Danzo sits stupefied, unable to so much as turn his head. Shisui takes a few tentative steps forward, teeth clenched, body tense.

“Why don’t you tell them?” He asks, his voice a low growl. “Tell them about how you tried to bully me into killing my family. Tell them about how you fucked with Itachi’s head until he was so screwed up he’d do whatever you told him!”

Shisui’s words come faster and faster, until they’re spilling over each other in his anger.

“Tell them how you went behind Sandaime’s back to make sure things went the way you wanted! Tell them how you threatened Sasuke if Itachi didn’t slaughter everyone else! Tell them how pissed you got when I told you I was gonna put a stop to the whole coup! Tell them how you cornered me and fucking  _ ripped my eye out of my goddamned skull _ !”

Shisui manages to find the front of Danzo’s robes, yanking him clean out of his seat.

“You-” Danzo manages.

“What?!” Shisui bellows, dragging the man so close their noses almost touch. “Aren’t you so fucking proud of what you did?! Of where it got you?! Fucking tell them or I’m gonna tell them for you!”

“I won’t be lectured by a child!” Danzo finally manages to retort, shoving Shisui off him with the arm not in a sling.

“So a ‘child’ can’t talk back to an adult, but they sure can murder, huh?!”

“Hey, kid- calm down.”

Mei’s firm tone belies the unease tying her stomach into knots.

“Slow down and walk it back for a second- I don’t understand what’s going on here,’ she urges him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Oh boy, where the fuck do I start?”

Shisui opts to sit on the floor, rather than grope around for a chair. He shakes his head, sending his curly hair flying everywhere.

“Y’all got something to write with? It’s a long story and I don’t wanna have to tell it twice.”

Danzo moves like he wants to strike the boy, but a firm hand on his wrist restrains him.

If Danzo were afraid before, he’s absolutely terrified now. He might even be shaking a little.

“Hiruzen- you’re-”

“Sit down,” Sarutobi urges him, with a grim look on his weathered face.

“What are you-”

“Let him say his piece. Then we can explain ourselves.”

Shisui snorts.

“That’s the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard you say, old man.”

Naruto scurries to Kakashi’s side, discomfort written in his every step. 

(Naruto is being quiet. Which, Kakashi knows, means he’s bottling up his feelings. Which never ends well.)

Shisui bows his head and draws a shaky breath.

“I knew something shitty was going on when I was really young,” he says. “Konoha didn’t trust us- that was really obvious. People were happy to have us fight and die to protect them- but at the end of the day, we got shoved off into one corner of the village so nobody had to look at us.”

An uneasy laugh escapes him.

“I thought Itachi and I could be different. We’d be the ones to mend the ties between the village and our clan. We were smart enough, we could pull it off. I was kinda stupid back then.”

Shisui rubs his temples to stave off the throbbing.

“I thought shit was gonna get better. I really thought we could make it better.”

He leans forward, resting his weight on his arms. 

“I’m sure you’ve already been told. The Uchiha were planning a coup d’etat against Konohagakure. We were fed up with how we were being treated. Sick and tired of all the distrust. Fugaku-oji didn’t really want a coup- but after the Kyuubi’s attack on the village, things really went to shit. Everyone was screaming at him to do  _ something _ \- and that was really all we had left. What else can you do when nobody will listen?”

Shisui makes a noise that might be a whimper.

“...I let him down. I told him it was gonna be okay. That we could calm it back down, that it didn’t  _ have _ to be our clan or our village. I promised him. I fuckin’  _ promised _ .”

“Him? You mean Itachi?” Kakashi asks.

Shisui nods. 

“Itachi and I joined ANBU because of the fighting between the village and the clan. We thought we could make things different- maybe if Sandaime and Danzo could trust us, they could trust the rest of the Uchiha. We were gonna fix it, and we were gonna fix it together. I promised him that.”

Shisui fiddles with the bandages on his face.

“It didn’t work, obviously. Because of that asshole over there.”

Shisui cradles his head in his hands; his voice is becoming quite unsteady.

“He wasn’t happy when I told him what I wanted to do. How I wanted to stop it.”

“Stop a coup? All on your own?” A asks, incredulous. “How?”

“Kotoamatsukami. It’s one of those cool things that come with Mangekyou Sharingan.”

He smiles at the collective confusion in the room.

“Before you guys ask- no, I didn’t kill anyone to get it. You don’t have to kill anyone. That’s just one of those stubborn rumors that won’t go away. The person you love the most just has to die- I dunno if that makes it better or not.”

(If he had eyes, Shisui might be crying by now. It’s the first time he’s been grateful for their absence.)

“Get back to the point,” Oonoki says, as callous and grumpy as ever.

“Yeah, yeah. The point- Kotoamatsukami is a genjutsu. A really subtle one; it can put an idea in your head and you won’t even know it happened. I was gonna use it on the whole clan. ‘Protect Konoha-’ that’s the idea I was gonna put in there. I was gonna make them stop the coup. It would’ve worked. Itachi wouldn’t have to kill anyone.”

His voice cracks, tense body trembling.

“He took my eye. Danzo took my eye because he didn’t trust me. He didn’t wanna trust the Uchiha. He would’ve taken the other one, too- but I didn’t let him.”

He pantomimes ripping an eye out of his own head.

“-I gave it to Itachi. Then I threw myself in the river. Because I knew as long as I lived, Danzo was gonna come after me. And if I died, Itachi would have Mangekyou too. It was the only thing left I could do for him.”

His shaking becomes too bad; he doubles over to try to contain his emotions.

“I didn’t wanna die- but there was nothing else I could do. And poor Itachi had to watch me do it. I’m sure he tried to stop me; I’m kinda glad I was blind, because I don’t think I coulda handled that look he gets when he’s scared.”

He takes a long, painful few moments to regain himself.

“...I left him alone. I shouldn’t have. He needed me with him. I promised I’d stay with him. But I had to. I had to go. I’m useless without my Sharingan.”

A sob finally bubbles up from within him.

“I guess with me gone, Danzo and Sandaime went ahead with their plan. They had Itachi exterminate every last Uchiha, aside from Sasuke. The men, the women- the fucking babies. All gone. Well, they  _ were  _ gone.”

In the silence that follows, the Kage exchange glances. Mei wrings her hair, lost in thought. A grits his teeth together, maybe to bite back some harsh remark. Gaara looks to Temari and Kankuro for comfort- they each place their arms around him to keep him steady. Oonoki is perfectly blank, but his grandchildren hold each other while they cry.

Kakashi drums his fingers on the table, having gone a weird shade of gray.

Shisui tries to smile, tries to put that cheerful facade back up. But that smile won’t come.

“...So. That’s my side. Danzo, Sandaime- care to tell us yours?   
  


* * *

 

“Sasuke, honey- I got you some lunch. I thought you might be hungry.”

Mikoto sets a bento on the table of the little hotel room they’ve decided to hole up in for now. Sasuke doesn't so much as spare the food a single glance, pacing back and forth on the rug and muttering frantically to himself. 

“Sasuke?”

‘...I need to see Orochimaru,” he mutters, fingers itching for the weapons that have been taken from him.

Fugaku scowls.

“I won’t have him anywhere near you anymore.”

“You don’t  _ get  _ it!” Sasuke howls, slamming his fist into the wall. The cheap paint flakes off, the window rattling in its panes.

“Sasuke-kun, please-” Sakura implores.

“-I need to see him,” Sasuke demands again, his voice growing brittle.

The frown lines in Fugaku’s face deepen.

“...Why.”

Sasuke folds in on himself, not looking his father in the eye.

“You won’t get it,” he insists, clamoring to regain his composure. His voice is still trembling far too much for his own liking. “Just let me-”

“Sasuke, they took him to prison.”

Mikoto takes that firm, but gentle motherly air about her, reaching out to stroke her son’s hair. Sasuke snatches her wrist out of the air.

He doesn't ask stupid questions like ‘why,’ because he gets that part. He just doesn't understand  _ how. _

He picks Takachin up from where he’d abandoned it in the corner, so he has something to hold onto. Its black button eyes stare, unblinking up at him.

Sasuke feels his eyes burn, and it isn’t from the Sharingan. He shuts them once again, tightly, wishing he could block out the world. 

But he can’t. He can’t block out the voices of his parents (his  _ parents,  _ alive and  _ here  _ and  _ not fucking dead).  _ He can’t block out Sakura’s concerned hand on the back of his head. Can’t block out the sound of his own breath as it grows faster and unsteady.

He can’t block out the awful, hollow ache that makes his heart clench painfully. The chill in his blood that makes him wish he were dead.

(He just wants it to all go away. Orochimaru promised he’d take it all away from him. He promised, once Itachi was gone, he would never have to hurt ever again.)

“Where’s Shisui?” He hears his mother ask. 

“I think he said something about talking to that Danzo guy,” Sakura answers, and Sasuke can practically  _ feel  _ his father’s anger flaring.

“He killed my son.”

When Sasuke opens his eyes, his father looks ready to murder somebody, but that murderous mood is interrupted by an impatient knock on the door.

“I’ll get it-” Sakura mutters, hurrying to undo the locks.

She tries to poke her head out to see who it is, but is shoved aside.

“They took my sword!”

Suigetsu pouts like a child who’s just had his favorite toy taken away. Izumi follows behind Sasuke’s new companions, mumbling a string of apologies for letting them in.

“Can you fuckin’ believe it, Sasuke? They won’t even let me have my sword! I feel like I’m walkin’ around naked here!”

“That’s not important, you idiot!” Karin reprimands, her face turning bright pink as she nervously approaches Sasuke.

“Are you okay? You look awful?”

“-What do you think?!” Sasuke snaps back, making Karin flinch.

“Yo, Sasuke, is this your girlfriend?” Suigetsu asks, turning Sakura beet red.

“Shut up, Suigetsu!” Karin shouts once more.

“Both of you, stop.”

Juugo approaches Sasuke carefully, reaching out toward him in a silent question. Sasuke Looks at him with pleading in his eyes.

“...Orochimaru. Where-”

“In the prison on the other side of the village,” Juugo answers. “We tried to get him back, but we can’t get near him.”

“Man we got an earful from that guy with that dumbass haircut,” Suigetsu whines. “If I see him or his fuckin’ eyebrows again it’ll be too soon.”

He bounces on the balls of his feet, antsy without his favorite weapon.

Fugaku decides it’s his turn to start pacing.

“Ojichan, what’s wrong?” Izumi asks, quietly.

“Everything,” Fugaku answers, crossing his arms to keep from hitting something. His one remaining eye is dangerously narrow, the heavy lines in his brow deepening. Izumi chews on her bottom lip, wanting to speak, but having difficulty gathering the courage to do so.

“Um- so, Orochimaru did say one thing before Kakashi-san and I left- I don’t think you guys are gonna like it.”

Fugaku’s fingers dig into his arms, steeling himself for the revelation.

“...And that would be?”

Izumi whines.

“He said ‘ask Shimura how many Sharingan he thinks I went through to make that right arm of his.’ But he wouldn’t tell anyone what he means.”

“The fuck-”

Fugaku unconsciously touches the bandaging where his left eye used to be.

Mikoto bites her thumbnail.

“What does he mean?”

“Do I even want to know?”

Izumi scratches her head.

“...Ojichan, what are we gonna do?”

Fugaku shuts his eye, briefly, then opens it again.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

Sasuke's fingers curl around his stuffed animal, hatred burning in his eyes.

"Yeah. Me too."


	8. It doesn't matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Jiraiya and Tsunade reminisce about the past, and Mikoto joins the Uchiha in spouting impactful one-liners.
> 
> Also, Kabuto is here too. Because why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The green pills Jiraiya is remembering Orochimaru taking are Xanax, in case anyone's curious.

* * *

 

Jiraiya shifts Tsunade’s weight on his back, trying to make it subtle enough that she won’t worry that she’s too heavy. He can feel Tsunade frowning, and that makes him desperate to lighten the mood.

(But how can he even manage that?)

“So- we’re gonna go up to all the other Kage- most of whom probably hate our guts.”

“Yep.”

“And we’re gonna tell ‘em that Danzo’s no good and shouldn’t be Hokage.”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re gonna tell ‘em you want your job back, even though you can’t even stand up on your own right now.”

“Exactly.”

Jiraiya huffs.

“Good to know you have such a complex and well put-together plan.”

“Hey, if it can’t be me, then we’ll tell them it has to be you. Or Kakashi. Or literally anyone else besides fucking Danzo.”

Jiraiya nods along, though his mind is working frantically.

Danzo. Shimura Danzo. Damn, he’d hoped to never hear that guy’s name again.

(Then again- when has Jiraiya ever really gotten what he wants?)

Tsunade adjusts her grip on him, and her breasts press against his back in a way that’s totally not distracting at all, no sir.

(Bad Jiraiya. Bad. Get to Iron Country first. Worry about your penis later.)

He tries to concentrate, gray eyes fixed on the rocky mountain path ahead.

Regardless of whether he wants to see this guy again- he knows, and Tsunade knows that they can’t let him become Hokage.

They’ve known since an eternity ago, that he’s the sort of person who shouldn’t be anywhere near that sort of power.  _ Any  _ sort of power.

Danzo is a scumbag, Jiraiya reminds himself. The worst sort of scumbag.

Of course- that might just be his bias talking.

He’d never liked the guy, even when Sarutobi-sensei first introduced them, back when they’d first become Team Hiruzen. The way he’d given them a clinical once-over, like they were display items in a shop window. The way those beady eyes had settled, hawkish, on Orochimaru.

Orochimaru, who had been so shy and so very  _ small  _ back then. 

Sensei had pulled Orochimaru’s hands away, when he’d tried to hide his face behind them, laughing and chiding him gently. And Danzo had- smiled? No, smile wasn’t the right word. 

-He’d looked at Orochimaru the same way a hawk might eye a mouse. 

_ “I’ve heard stories about you, boy,”  _ Danzo had said, in a way that might optimistically be called playful. 

_ “...Stories?”  _

(God, Orochimaru was always so quiet back then.)

_ “Of course. There’s quite a bit of chatter about you at the academy- I look forward to seeing the exceptional shinobi you’ll become.” _

There had been something in his voice. Something ominous that makes him shudder thinking back on it. Something that made Orochimaru shudder back then.

Danzo always, always had that same creepy expression when he looked at Orochimaru, though it took Jiraiya awhile to realize it. 

In the beginning, Orochimaru avoided the man like the plague, making mumbled, half-hearted excuses to leave whenever he came near, slinking into the shadows much like the snakes he was always so fond of.

Of course, that was before Orochimaru changed.

Somewhere down the line, the shy, awkward little boy he’d come to know as Orochimaru died, vanishing into the cold which steeled those gold eyes, buried in the ice which shielded his brittle heart. Swallowed with those strange green pills Orochimaru took like candy.

And Danzo-

-It was weird, Jiraiya thought, when he started seeing the two of them together. Orochimaru was so- so beautiful, so graceful, so charming and eloquent and hypnotic. And Danzo- well. Wasn’t. 

He started taking to calling Orochimaru to speak in private, often for hours at a time. Jiraiya never knew what they spoke about, but afterward Orochimaru would always be just a little more short-tempered than his usual. Just that much more withdrawn. It was subtle, but it was hard to miss- filigree cracks in the flawless mask Orochimaru presented to the world.

(Jiraiya pretended not to notice. But he did.)

“What’s wrong?” Tsunade asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“...It’s nothing,” Jiraiya mutters. 

“You’re full of shit.”

Jiraiya grumbles.

“...I’m just remembering,” he finally answers. “About Orochimaru.”

Tsunade sighs, her breath tickling the back of his neck. A few crows fly overhead, their cacophonous cawing breaking the serene silence of the rocky mountain path.

“What about him?”

Jiraiya forces out a laugh.

“I’m being stupid. Just ignore me, alright?”

Tsunade hums, softly. 

“...I wonder what he knew,” Jiraiya at last admits, after a long pause. “About Danzo, I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it- the one person in the world that ever really scared Orochimaru was that guy. So why-?”

“Probably because he’s about as pleasant as period cramps,” Tsunade grumbles.

Jiraiya snorts, pulling a mock-disgusted face. 

“What?” Tsunade giggles, in spite of herself. 

“Be serious!” Jiraiya cackles.

“Look who’s telling who to be serious!”

Another interlude, where the only noises are the birds overhead. Jiraya decides he needs a rest, setting Tsunade down in the shade of a lonely, ancient tree.

He stretches out his aching muscles, while Tsunade curls and uncurls her hands, prods are her legs, testing her returning strength.

“...I do wonder just how much he knew,” Jiraiya mumbles. “He was always hiding something.”

“He’s gone, Jiraiya,” Tsunade reminds him. “Whatever he knew, it doesn't matter anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Jiraiya watches as Tsunade braces herself against the tree’s gnarled trunk, and manages a few labored steps on her own.

“...You’re gonna be okay, right?” 

“Of course,” Tsunade answers. “Gimme a day. Maybe two. I’ll be back to normal.”

“Good. You’re gonna need to be at full power when you punch Danzo in his stupid-ass face.”

Jiraiya meant for that to be funny, but Tsunade doesn't laugh. She chews anxiously on her thumbnail, like she always does when she worries.

“I hope we’re not too late-”

“What do you mean?”

Tsunade draws her knees up to her chest.

“I’ve got a really rotten feeling. Like something awful is about to happen.”

“If it does, we’ll fix it,” Jiraiya assures her. 

“How do you know that?!”

“Because we’ll have to.”

Jiraiya turns toward the sun, just starting to sink downward.

“We can probably make it before dark,” he says, optimistically. “How much can he really fuck up before then?”

“...I suppose you’re right.”

“See? That’s the spirit! Sensei always told us to keep hopeful, right?”

“Yeah,” Tsunade says, even if she doesn't believe it.

 

* * *

“Well?”

If Sarutobi didn’t regret coming back from the dead before- he was certainly starting to. 

All the eyes on him seem to be burning into his soul- impatient, demanding. Fugaku and his wife have joined their unhappy group, wearing identical, stony expressions. Poor little Izumi kneels on the wooden floor beside Shisui, trying vainly to console him.

And Naruto-

Poor Naruto looks ready to burst into tears at any moment. He hugs his own arms tightly, chewing on his bottom lip so nobody catches it trembling. 

(Just like he did so often when he was young.)

Danzo doesn't speak, but Hiruzen can see the gears in his head turning, looking for a way out of this situation. Like he always did- that was one thing Danzo always excelled at.

“-It’s as Shisui said,” Hiruzen says, keeping his voice as level and calm as he can. “We caught wind of the Uchiha clan’s plans for rebellion. At first they were just rumors- but when Itachi told us they were more than just rumors, we couldn’t ignore it any longer.”

He finally retakes his seat, folding his hands neatly in his lap. 

“Once, I’d truly hoped to rebuild a peaceful relationship with the Uchiha,” he continues. “In another world, we may have done it. Fugaku-san was a very different sort of man than his father; he told me he wanted to mend ties- he even asked to name his second child after my own father, as a token of good faith. I thought- I really thought- we could fix everything which had been broken by the previous generations. For awhile, I genuinely thought everything would be okay.”

Danzo suppresses a condescending laugh; however, Fugaku’s wicked glower successfully shuts him up.

“-It was after the Kyuubi’s attack on the village, I think, when things went sour again. Suspicions turned to the Uchiha clan; there were demands for sanctions against them. I gave in- I placed them under curfew, put surveillance on them. It probably wasn’t right, but people were terrified. I had to give them some sort of reassurance.”

Shisui lets out a harsh bark of a laugh.

“Yeah, blaming people who had fuckall to do with what happened. That’ll help everybody sleep nice ‘n safe at night.”

Hiruzen flinches.

“...Nobody was able to account for the whereabouts of either Mikoto-san or Fugaku-san that night. What was I supposed to-”

“I was at my post the entire night,” Fugaku interrupts, temper flaring up. “I was there when we evacuated the civilians to the shelters when the attack happened.”

His fingers dig into his upper arms.

“-I had to trust Itachi to safely get himself and Sasuke to the shelter. Because I didn’t have time to go with them. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Hiruzen joins Kakashi in drumming his fingers on the mahogany table.

“And Mikoto? Where was-”

“-Kushina was about to give birth,” Mikoto answers, sharply. “I was arguing with a small army of ANBU soldiers so I could be with my best friend while she had her first child. When I realized something had gone wrong, I tried to run back to my sons, but I got boxed in by a landslide. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

“-You were my mom’s-”

Naruto’s bright blue eyes go wide, but he can’t finish his sentence.

“But I’m sorry, Sandaime-sama. We interrupted. Go on.”

Mikoto’s voice drips with false politeness betrayed by the sneer on her beautiful face.

Sarutobi casts a fleeting look at Danzo.

“-There had already been some tension with the selection of the Yondaime Hokage. The Uchiha wanted to nominate Fugaku-san, and I understood their wish. However, I felt the conflict between his obligations to his clan and to his village presented a conflict of interest, so I chose to nominate Namikaze Minato to be my successor.”

“-And I nominated Orochimaru,” Danzo chimes in, at last breaking his silence. “I felt he was far better suited to running a village than one so young and inexperienced.”

“...That isn’t the point,” Hiruzen growls. “The point is that the clan felt slighted when Fugaku-san didn’t get the position, so whatever progress we had been making started falling apart.”

“That had nothing to do with it,” Fugaku snaps. “It was because you didn’t trust my clan.”

“Was that distrust misplaced?” Danzo asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you think we planned a revolution on a whim?” Fugaku snarks back. “You were happy to throw away our lives fighting your battles, but you threw us to the wolves as soon as it was convenient to saddle us with blame.”

“Seeing as your clan has a history of being unstable, I’d say trusting your kind would be foolish.”

“-You can’t stop making up stories, can you, Danzo-sama?”

Mikoto gives the man a look that could freeze fire solid. The Sharingan swirls to life in her black eyes, fixed intently on him.

“So, do tell- how many Sharingan did Orochimaru go through to make that right arm of yours?”

 

* * *

 

 

Orochimaru looks over his unexpected visitor, taking in those sad, frightened eyes and weary frame, the smooth white scales creeping over sallow skin, the storm cloud gray hair which is now cropped short.

“You don’t look very well,” Orochimaru chuckles, though his broken ribs stab him in protest.

“ _ I  _ don’t look well?!” Kabuto splutters, disbelieving. “You’re- you’re-”

“I’ve endured worse, Kabuto. You can stop with that troubled face now.”

Kabuto turns his head away, instead looking at the limp forms of Yamato and Might Gai, thrown unconscious into a corner along with the samurai he’d cast aside in his haste to reach his master.

“Why?” He whimpers, crouching down to better take in the extent of Orochimaru’s injuries. His frown grows deeper still, panic setting in when he takes in the shattered mess of Orochimaru’s arms.

“Things are getting interesting,” Orochimaru answers, flinching when Kabuto accidentally brushes against a particularly nasty bruise. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“But what’s happening?!” Kabuto implores, confusion painted in every fiber of his being. “I don’t understand!”

If his neck weren’t so sore and stiff, orochimaru might cock his head in amusement.

“From what I’ve gathered, it seems those who have been killed by the Akatsuki have been brought back from the dead. Although I’m not sure of the details, or how many people have returned. But I know poor Sasuke-kun isn’t taking it too well at all.”

“I can imagine,” Kabuto mumbles.

The soft hum of medical chakra fills the air. The pain which consumed Orochimaru’s being instantly loosens its hold on him.

“...Who did this to you?” 

Kabuto’s voice is deadly, his hands shaking while he does his work.

“Nobody you need to worry about,” Orochimaru coos at him; were his hands free (and not broken into a thousand pieces), he’d reach out to stroke that crop of silver hair, to soothe the tremors away, as he had countless times before.

A wince, a grimace, as broken ribs pop into place and start to heal. Nasty bruises start to fade, turning sickly yellow before disappearing into white skin.

“Why the long face, Kabuto? Are you unhappy to see me?”

“N-no!”

Kabuto turns crimson.

“I just- you were- Sasuke, he-”

“I’m not so easy to get rid of, Kabuto. I thought you knew that.”

“I-”

Kabuto doesn't finish his sentence, instead releasing the heavy manacle encasing Orochimaru’s arms with the key he’d stolen off Yamato. 

Orochimaru hisses when Kabuto pulls his arms forward, forcing the broken bones back into place so he can fix them.

“I’m sorry-” Kabuto says, though he’s not quite sure what he’s apologizing for- for hurting him, or-

“No need for that.” 

-He isn’t sure which Orochimaru is forgiving him for, either.

Kabuto flinches when Orochimaru moves his hand- expecting to be struck for what he’s done, for fooling around with things he shouldn’t-

-But all he receives is a playful pat on the head.

“I’m not angry.”

The boy blinks, once, twice. Confused.

“-Although, I’d always liked your hair. I’m sad you cut it.”

Kabuto feels his face grow warm.

“Oh-I-”

“Hush. It’s alright. You’re alright.”

Kabuto draws a great, shaking breath.

(Calm. Yes. He needs to be calm. Orochimaru will need him to be clear-headed for whatever’s to come.)

Orochimaru picks up the manacle that had been cast aside.

“Help me get this awful thing back on,” he advises. “I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

“But-”

“I’ve decided to play along for now. It makes them feel better this way.”

It makes Orochimaru restless; he’s so handicapped, so naked without his ninjutsu. But he also knows it won’t be any fun if people know he’s dangerous. So he allows Kabuto to put that horrid thing back around his arms- though blessedly, without the pain this time.

“...What do you want me to do?” Kabuto asks, desperate to have the guidance of his mentor once again.

“Well, doing something about them would probably be wise.”

“Right-”

Kabuto repositions the samurai and the unfortunate Konoha shinobi in some semblance of their proper place, casting a jutsu that will make them think they merely happened to doze off at the same time. He slips the key back into one of Yamato’s pockets with a sigh.

“They’ll wake up soon- I didn't hurt them."  


“You should be going then, Kabuto.”

“What about-”

“Shh. I’ll be fine.”

Orochimaru smiles- a rare, genuine smile, gold eyes alight with excitement.

“Don’t fret. This is going to be fun.”

  
  
  
  
  



	9. What could be believed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru's here and he brought tea to spill!

* * *

“-I swear, I don’t remember falling asleep-”

“-All of us at once, too? Something’s off-”

Yamato’s head turns toward the steel door which contains Orochimaru behind it. A nervous twitch takes over his hands, as if pulled by the strings of an invisible puppeteer.

“But- he couldn’t, could he? Not the way he is right now..."

“I wouldn’t put anything past that guy,” Gai disagrees, with a somber shake of his head.

When Yamato unlocks the door, Orochimaru smiles at him- which immediately makes him uneasy. He means to say  _ “What did you do?!”  _ but his words have been stolen from him.

“Hm? Did you need something, Tenzou-kun?”

The second thing Yamato notices (after that thoroughly unnerving smile) is the distinctive lack of injury; Orochimaru’s skin is as smooth and flawless as virgin snow. Perfect. Untouched.

(What the fuck.)

“Is something the matter?”

“What-”

“What did you do?” Gai demands, finishing the question Yamato can’t manage to spit out.

Orochimaru cocks his head, regarding the two men bemusedly. 

“Me? I’m not sure I understand- I’ve been a good little prisoner this entire time.”

The light, teasing tone of Orochimaru’s voice sends a jolt of anger through Yamato’s body.

“Stop fucking around!” 

(The order comes out louder than he intended it to.)

“Tenzou-kun, what reason would I have to lie to you right now?”

Yamato grits his teeth, but he doesn't have an answer.

He knows Orochimaru can regenerate- can shed his damaged body as easily as a snake sheds its skin. But there’s no sign in the empty cell that he’s done so. And there’s just no way it could be some sort of jutsu- not with his hands restrained. But he had to have done  _ something.  _

(His head is starting to hurt already.)

Orochimaru tilts his head to the opposite side, still smiling that awful, phony smile. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” he faux-scolds.

Gai huffs, impatient, whirling around to walk laps around the hall beyond Orochimaru’s cell. Yamato stays glued to the spot, dark eyes locked on gold, paralyzed but unable to look away.

“Is Sasuke-kun feeling alright?” Orochimaru inquires. “He had me so worried, the poor dear.”

Yamato blinks.

“I- I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t seen him in awhile.”

Orochimaru hums his understanding, his expression growing surprisingly somber.

“He’ll be needing me, you know.”

“What’s that mean?”

Yet another tilt of his head. A flash of knowing in his eyes.

“Now that Sasuke-kun knows the truth about his dear brother, he’ll be wanting to know more, don’t you think? And where better to learn the truth of what happened back then than from the man himself?”

“His brother is dead-”

“-There are ways of making dead men talk.”

Orochimaru waits for the puzzle pieces click into place in Yamato’s brain.

“...Edo Tensei, you mean.”

“Now you’re getting it, Tenzou-kun.”

Gai stops dead in his tracks; every muscle in Yamato’s body goes rigid.

“See- right now, I’m the only person who can still perform the Edo Tensei. That’s the reason Sasuke-kun went through the trouble of bringing me back.”

“But you-”

“-I was never dead, Tenzou-kun. I’m not that easy to kill.”

Yamato rolls this information over in his mind. Truthfully, he isn’t sure what he was expecting to gain out of this conversation.

“How exactly are you going to talk a room full of people who hate you into letting you resurrect a dead criminal?” Gai asks, pointedly.

“Oh, I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

Orochimaru is so damn cavalier about his situation that Yamato figures he  _ must  _ be planning something. He swallows thickly, finding his throat suddenly drier than the entire Wind country.

“In the meanwhile, I have a favor I’d like to ask, Tenz- oh, I really should stop that. They call you Yamato now, don’t they?”

An eerie feeling settles into Yamato’s bones and chills his blood. 

(He makes a mental note- next time Kakashi asks him to watch the captured criminal for a bit, he’s going to say no.)

Still...he has a feeling (as strange as it is) that Orochimaru is being honest. At least for now.  


“...Alright. What do you want?”

“How good are you at remembering hand seals?”

“Eh? Uh- I’m good. I think-”

_ Shit.  _ He feels so  _ stupid  _ and so clumsy, tripping over his words. Yet Orochimaru doesn't seem to mind.

“Good. I’ve got a few I’ll need you to remember for me, if you could."  


 

* * *

If Fugaku’s look of abject horror is any indication, he’s as ready to vomit as Kakashi is, and the sight laid out before them.

Mikoto has wrenched Danzo’s right arm from its sling. Torn aside the brass and bandaging which concealed it. The flesh is pasty white and sickly looking, with thick, gnarled veins that seem more like wood than anything.

But the color of the malformed limb pales in comparison to the terror brought on by the myriad eyes embedded in it, lethargically rolling around the room. Fugaku clutches at the empty chasm where own his eye once lay, realization turning his face gray.

“What the fuck-” A mutters.

“Oh my god,” Mei groans, looking rather ill.

“Gross,” Choujirou and Kurotsuchi mumble in unison.

“Impossible!” Oonoki exclaims.

“-What have you  _ done?!”  _ Sarutobi breathlessly whispers. Shimura seems perfectly unruffled.

“The Sharingan is a truly remarkable Kekkai Genkai,” he muses, unruffled by the enraged expression on Mikoto’s face. “It’s a gift wasted on such a clan.”

“You- you made my baby kill our clan to gut us for spare parts?!”

“Merely a fortunate side effect,” Danzo replies. “To let such a treasure die out would have been a waste.”

“You’re talking about us like we’re fucking show dogs,” Shisui snarls, back on his feet once more.

Danzo sneers at him. 

“Does resurrection cause  _ everyone  _ to come back with foul mouths, or just arrogant teenage brats?” he asks.

Izumi puts an arm out to keep Shisui back, even though her entire being is shaking.

“-Did Itachi-kun know what you were gonna do with all those Sharingan?” She demands.

“It wasn’t Itachi’s place to know, and there was no sense troubling him with the details. He was given his assignment, and he carried it out as expected of a shinobi of the Leaf.”

“By committing genocide!” Gaara interjects, slamming a fist on the long mahogany table, cracking the expensive wood.

“Itachi had a choice!” Danzo declares, yanking his arm back from Mikoto’s grip. “His village, or his clan! Itachi chose his village!”

“That’s bullshit!” Shisui screams, and Kurotsuchi has to tackle him to stop him lunging forward.

“He didn’t choose  _ anything!  _ You threatened him! If he didn’t do what you wanted you said you’d have Sasuke killed first! You told him it was the only way Sasuke could live- Do you think anyone’s gonna buy your shit for one fucking second?!”

Mikoto looks ready to murder- the self-control it takes her to refrain is admirable to say the least.

“Itachi was thirteen years old,” she spits, the scarlet of her Sharingan practically glowing. “Thirteen. He was a  _ child.  _ How can you stand there and say he made a  _ choice?! _ ”

“A shinobi like Itachi could hardly be called a child,” Danzo snarks back at her.

He reaches for the bandaging wrapped around his head.

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense-”

“-I’m afraid that isn’t going to work.”

Yamato mumbles something resembling an apology, standing opposite Gai on either side of Orochimaru as they join the tense and angry crowd. When he receives a nod from Orochimaru, he fumbles through a series of hand signs.

Orochimaru smiles placidly at Danzo, as though the man weren’t suddenly looking at him with an unbridled mix of fear and rage when his right arm suddenly falls uselessly to his side.

“That arm of yours won’t work, I’m afraid.”

With a small  _ crunch _ , and a sickening tearing sound, that strange arm falls cleanly from Danzo’s side.

“-After all, why would I take the chance that you’d turn my little experiment against me?”

“You-”

Fury seems to have robbed the old man of his ability to form complete sentences.

Kakashi gathers his wits about him enough to grab the newly severed limb, despite becoming closer  by the second to throwing up.

“What have you  _ done?!”  _ Hiruzen demands once more, more forcefully this time, and this time directed at his former student.

“Only what I was told to do, Sarutobi-sensei.”

There’s ice in Orochimaru’s voice, but his posture is as loose and casual as if he was discussing the weather.

“When it became decided that Itachi-kun would have to dispatch the rest of the Uchiha, I was approached by Danzo; he said he wanted to preserve those eyes in the clan which possessed the Mangekyou Sharingan. So, I just so happened to be sent those eyes- along with very clear instructions as to what to do with them.”

The man takes a few steps forward, never once taking his eyes off Danzo.

“I’d agreed- it would have been such a waste, were something as valuable as the Mangekyou lost on the whim of some badger with a power fetish. So, on a few conditions, I agreed to do as he asked.”

“What conditions?” Kakashi inquires, unsteady and still nauseous.

“Firstly, the condition that I be allowed to keep a few for myself- Sharingan is so fascinating to study, after all. And the second-”

There’s a split-second’s hesitation, while Orochimaru internally debates whether he should make this next admission.

“-The second was, no matter what circumstances, Mitarashi Anko would not be recruited into ANBU.”

Naruto at long last finds his voice.

“Anko? Why her  _ dattebayo _ ?”

“She was the star of my first and only Gennin team,” Orochimaru answers, waxing suddenly nostalgic. “I wanted nothing more than to keep her out of Danzo’s grasp. He knew that, and I’m sure it just ate him alive- but if he wanted my services, he knew he would have to comply with my conditions.”

He speaks about Danzo as though he’s not there, despite keeping yellow eyes firmly fixed on him. That fierce gaze has Danzo rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the murderous intent in those eyes.

(Even with his arms rendered unusable, Orochimaru is still terrifying.)

“It wasn’t easy to make that arm, you know. I was given fifty Mangekyou; twenty pairs, ten solitary. I was only successful with the ten you see here.”

Kakashi shudders, and sets the arm down on the table so he doesn't have to touch it anymore. One of the eyes rolls too point itself at Fugaku.

“-Ah, I think that one is yours, Captain,” Orochimaru remarks.

Fugaku looks like he might faint.

“It’s such a fascinating thing, that Mangekyou. I could study it for a lifetime, and still never unravel all its secrets,” Orochimaru muses, softly, lovingly. “But as much of a waste as it was to see such a gift die away-”

He takes one more step toward Danzo, so close now that the coarse gray fabric of his prison clothing nearly brushes against Danzo’s robes.

“-It’s a bigger waste on one as pathetic as you.”

“Big words, from a man traipsing around in a borrowed body,” Danzo quips.

White lips curl over white fangs- a true predator’s grin.

“Ah, but who was it who sent me to start researching ways to cheat death? Who’s the one who gave me the resources to do my work? Who threatened me and those I loved, should I fail? Who fabricated the million excuses to Sandaime, to explain away the suspicious goings-on? Who first planted the idea in my head, Shimura? I wouldn’t know half of what I know, if it weren’t for you.”

Something in Danzo’s impotently angry expression sets Orochimaru cackling, doubling over and nearly falling down as helpless laughter wracks his thin frame. 

“I can’t believe you ever used to frighten me!” 

Sarutobi watches his former protege giggle like a man possessed, growing progressively more alarmed.

When the Sannin’s laughter has finally died away, Shisui musters up the will to speak.

“So- does he have my eye too?”

“Of course- he was particularly insistent on yours. It was a tricky business- something in the Sharingan seems to know whether it’s been freely given to the recipient. But I managed it, even if it was a bit crude in the end.”

Shisui swears loudly, banging his fist uselessly against his forehead.

“So what now, Danzo?” Orochimaru asks, cloyingly sweet and venomous. “Will you use Kotoamatsukami to brainwash us all into following you? Or do you have some other trick up your sleeve?”

“Like fuck I’ll let him-”

“Take a breath, Shisui-kun. It’s useless for you to get agitated.”

Orochimaru doesn't look away from Danzo. Doesn't allow him to break free from the paralyzing fear that grips the depths of his soul. But, rather than address the man, he instead addresses the Kage.

“Would you happen to have a seat for me? I have a few things I would  _ love  _ to discuss with you all.”

He lolls out that long tongue of his on the last word, sending a collective chill through the room. 

Gaara is the one to break through the tension.

“-Over there. You can sit over there.”

Orochimaru takes the seat as though he already owns the room.

“Well then,” he says, gleefully. “Where shall I begin?”

 

* * *

“Kabuto- when did you- why are you- the fuck happened to your-”

Kabuto waves Suigetsu off dismissively.

“Later.”

Sasuke glares at the sudden intruder from beneath a spill of inky hair.

“Such a grim face,” Kabuto laments. “Orochimaru-sama was right when he said you aren’t coping well.”

The boy’s breath hitches in his throat.

“You were with Orochimaru-sama?” Karin demands. “Where is he?! Is he alright?!”

“Orochimaru-sama will be just fine,” Kabuto assures her, shaking his head.  “We have other things to do right now than worry about him.”

“Like-?” Juugo mumbles, wary of the mischievous light in Kabuto’s eyes.

“Nothing too important. But I thought Sasuke-kun might like to see his big brother.”

All the air evacuates Sasuke’s lungs at once, and he’s standing in a heartbeat.

“You don’t mean-”

“-Orochimaru-sama isn’t the only one who can perform the Edo Tensei anymore,” Kabuto confirms. 

Sasuke steps forward. Grabs the front of Kabuto's cloak. 

His eyes are wide, disbelieving. Manic and desperate.

"-You can really do it?" 

Kabuto smiles, and though his face is so much different from before, that smile is the same as it's always been.

"Would I ever lie to you, Sasuke?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support and feedback! It really means a lot to me!


	10. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gettin' the squad back together!

* * *

Sasuke glares at the man bound on the filthy floor- some awful breed of criminal scum, no doubt, pulled from the depths of the prison like a rat from a sewer. The man stares at Kabuto’s serpentine form, paralyzed and mute from fear.

He doesn't like the thought of using this slimy bastard, but he knows full well what the Edo Tensei requires, and he’s the best they’ve got for now.

(He’s shivering, and he isn’t sure if it’s because the prison is cold, or if he’s just afraid.)

“Well, Sasuke?”

Kabuto has one anemic hand stretched out toward him, expectantly. 

“I need a piece of Itachi if you want me to bring him back.”

Sasuke snaps himself out of his thoughts. He reaches into one of the pouches on his belt, and fishes out a thin crystal flask, sealed with thick, red wax, full of a grayish powder.

(He holds it carefully, tenderly. Like it's his greatest treasure.)

“I burned his body,” he explains, sounding a little out of breath, reluctantly yielding the flask. “This is all that’s left of him.”

“It’ll work,” Kabuto shrugs, taking it and breaking the seal. 

He lays out a scroll on the floor, covered in his own cramped, fastidious handwriting. Rather carelessly, he dumps Itachi’s ashes into his palm, and smears them onto the paper.

Karin, Suigetsu, and Juugo take a simultaneous step backward.

Kabuto goes through the hand signs like they’re second-nature to him.

_ Tiger-Serpent-Dog-Dragon _

He claps his hands together, his face warped by an inhuman grin.

"This is the fun part."

A violent flare of blue chakra swells up around the man writhing and groaning on the floor. The groaning turns to screaming, as he’s enveloped in something that looks like ashes, until they cover his head and silence him.

The ash constricts around the man’s form, compressing and stretching his stocky frame. Another flash, and the ash flies away.

The weathered, heavily-lined face of the man they had killed is replaced by the thin, delicate features of Uchiha Itachi.

His skin is the same deathly pallor as the ash, a network of spiderweb cracks working across it, like he were an ill-cared-for porcelain doll.

Sasuke has to look away.

Kabuto grabs this lifeless doll by the heavy crimson cloak draped over his skinny body. In his other hand, he grips a kunai with a talisman tied onto the end.

“Well, Sasuke-”

He stabs the kunai into the back of the corpse’s neck with a disturbing amount of relish. The metal and paper sink into the flesh like it were butter, sending a jolt through its motionless form.  


“-Say hello to your big brother.”

Sasuke holds his breath, resting his weight against the wall to keep from falling over.

The corpse stirs. 

“Okay, this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Suigetsu complains.

Eyes that are black black  _ black  _ all over open groggily, as though Itachi had merely slept for too long. 

“...Niisan.”

Those too-black eyes grow wide, and a horrified sound escapes the revived corpse wearing Itachi’s face.

“Good morning, Itachi-chan~” Kabuto chirps, in a sing-song tone, undoing the ropes which bound him. 

“What’s..." is all the man (if he could really be called a _man_ ) manages.

Sasuke throws his arms around his brother’s neck, unable to restrain himself any longer.

(He’s cold. He’s cold as ice (cold as death), it isn’t fair- he wants his brother to be warm.)

“Too moved to speak, Itachi?” Kabuto chides, almost laughs. 

“...What is the meaning of this?”

“Things have gotten quite interesting since you’ve been gone,” Kabuto answers, chortling when Itachi flinches at his words. “What a cruel older brother you were, leaving poor Sasuke behind all alone.”

Itachi is still stunned silent; he makes no move to either push Sasuke away or pull him closer.

Sasuke makes a series of sad, miserable noises, burying his face against his brother, who remains as still as if he were still a corpse.

(Itachi is so cold and his skin feels so strange, but, somehow, he still smells exactly the same as Sasuke remembers him- like sweets and faint metal and something medicinal and the floral oils their mother loved brushing through his long silken hair.)

“-Why did you do it?” Sasuke whines, and in that moment he’s that same frightened child Itachi had abandoned all those years ago. 

“Before you go around lying like you usually do,” Kabuto tells Itachi, still cheery as ever, “Sasuke knows the  _ real  _ answer, so it won’t do you any good to go making things up.”

Wide black eyes grow wider still.

“Niisan,  _ why?!”  _ Sasuke begs, fingers digging into Itachi’s bony shoulders. “Why did you have to do it?!”

Though pain is something Itachi can no longer feel, he looks as though he’s in agony. He finally brings a hand up to rest on the back of Sasuke’s head, shutting his eyes tightly as if that could block out what’s happening. 

“...I ran out of time,” he finally answers so quiet Sasuke can barely hear him.

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” Sasuke pleads, growing desperate. “I would have gone with you! I would have followed you anywhere!”

Itachi tenses up, swallowing thickly though there’s nothing in his mouth to swallow.

“That’s exactly why I had to make you hate me,” he answers, softly. “So you wouldn’t follow me.”

“I never hated you!”

The admission seems to sap all the energy from Sasuke; he sags heavily against his brother, defeated and drained.

“...How could I ever hate you? I’m not strong enough to hate you..."

He sounds so sad, so  _ lost,  _ and it pierces Itachi’s heart like a knife. 

Slowly, at long last, Itachi allows himself to hug his little brother. Breathes the six words he’s wanted to say for years.

“..I’m sorry, Sasuke. It’s all my fault.”

 

* * *

 

 

Though the clothes Orochimaru is wearing are coarse and dreary, and though his arms are still bound as a prisoner, he manages to possess all the haughty arrogance of a nobleman draped in silk. Cold and composed, Orochimaru smiles placidly at the Kage before him, with the sort of confidence that would place him right at home in a Daimyo's court.  


(It’s becoming increasingly clear why so many so reverently referred to this man as  _ Lord  _ Orochimaru.)

“Well then, what should we discuss first? The experiments on the Sharingan, or on the Shodaime’s mokuton? Or perhaps you’d like to hear about Danzo’s dealings with the Kaguya clan? Or if you’d like, we could discuss Shimura-san’s involvement with Amegakure’s Hanzo of the Salamander?”

“-Let’s start with the Kaguya,” Mei says, eyes narrowed. “What did he have to do with them?”

His one arm held fast by Mikoto, Shisui’s eye rendered useless from the jutsu which Yamato had performed, Danzo is only able to glare at Orochimaru, who continues on as though nothing is wrong.

“The Kaguya clan were a bunch of loudmouthed malcontents from the start- it didn’t take Shimura very much to rile them up to rebellion. They weren’t nearly so patient as the Uchiha in that regard.”

He sounds highly amused as he speaks, that grin growing just that tiny fraction wider.

“Of course, I wouldn’t consider it _too_ much of a loss. The clan had become too insular, too isolated and inbred to ever really be salvaged.”

His remarks don’t seem to sit well with the Mizukage, who growls at him.

“But that gift of theirs- that Kekkai Genkai was something worth preserving-”

He trails off, perhaps realizing he’s losing the topic.

“-It was easy enough to start the rumor going in the clan. The whisper than the village was plotting against them. To make them retreat even farther into their isolation and stew in their resentment, even if Kiri never planned anything of the sort. At least- not until the Kaguya were breaking down the gates trying to slaughter everyone in sight.”

Mei fixes her sharp green eyes on Orochimaru, skepticism written in her scowl.

“How do I know you’re not bullshitting me?”

“I suppose you don’t.”

“Hm.”

She glances at Danzo, inscrutable. 

“Well? Is that true?”

Danzo grits his teeth, still glaring at Orochimaru.

“Unfortunately, Shimura has a nasty habit of killing anyone who’d give his secrets away, so anyone who could confirm the fact isn’t around anymore. Dead men usually tell no tales, after all.”

Orochimaru pulls an odd face, like his nose itches but he can’t move his hand to scratch it.

“If the Mist didn’t act against the Kaguya, there was the potential to destabalize the entire shinobi world. I wasn’t about to allow that to happen.”

“The Kaguya were less than two hundred strong. What sort of threat could such a tiny clan pose to the entire world?”

“Akatsuki caused more than enough trouble with only nine!”

There’s more being said, more raised voices, but Naruto doesn't want to stick around for it. The room wobbles around him as he stands up.

“-Feeling alright, Naruto-kun?”

“None of your business  _ dattebayo, _ ” Naruto mumbles at Orochimaru, making his way out into the vast network of hallways as fast as he can on unsteady legs.

His face feels way too warm, his body way too cold. Listening to Orochimaru is upsetting him- he has to get away.

_ My head hurts- _

The air outside is cool, and sends some jolts of life through him. He breathes deeply, pulling his headband off to take some of the heat away from his forehead.

The Kyuubi inside him is restless, writhing, murmuring the most awful sorts of suggestions in his ear- egging on the little flame of hatred that’s been steadily growing in Naruto’s heart.

Naruto clamps his hands against the sides of his head, screaming in his brain for it to  _ shut the fuck up already!  _ But the Kyuubi would never be so kind to him. He aims a punch at a nearby tree, but comes back with knuckles full of splinters.

“Damn it, owowowowow-”

He mutters a string of curses, picking shards of wood and bark out of his hand.

Hot tears prick at his eyes. Frustration ties his stomach in knots.

Why does everything have to be so dirty? What is there even left that’s real? Who could he possibly trust to tell him the truth-

“-I know that face. Something’s got you down.”

All thought evacuates Naruto’s head at the sound of  _ that voice. _

One arm supporting Tsunade, Jiraiya stretches the other out, beaming that bright, jubilant smile that made everything seem okay.

“Bad day, short stuff?”

The strong features on Jiraiya’s face blur together in a thick, watery haze.

“No way-”

He takes a step forward, blue eyes transfixed on his Sensei.

“Naruto?”

“-You let me name a character in  _ Makeout Tactics.  _ What’d I call her?”

Tsunade shoots Jiraiya a dirty look.

“You were letting the kid read your porn?”

“Paizuko,” Jiraiya answers, pointedly ignoring Tsunade.

“What the fuck-”

“Pervy Sage!”

Naruto squeals out for joy, finally letting his tears overflow. Jiraiya, for his part, doesn't seem to mind being smeared with snot and saline while Naruto blubbers, clinging onto him like a small child might.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m back, it’s alright,” he says, awkwardly patting the boy on the shoulder. Tsunade joins in on the hug, rubbing his back in a motherly sort of way.  


“I missed you so much,” Naruto sobs.

“I missed you too,” Jiraiya assures him. “I’m sorry I ever left.”

“What’s it matter?!” Naruto declares, squeezing tighter still. “You’re back! It’s too good to be real  _ dattebayo _ ! I can’t wait to tell everyone!”

Naruto bounces from one foot to the other, tugging Jiraiya and Tsunade back toward the grand building.

“C’mon, c’mon!”

“Hold it, Naruto- Tsunade’s frail right now!”

That last quip earns Jiraiya a whack upside the head, but not one hard enough to really hurt.

Elation courses through Naruto’s being.

Nothing else matters right now. Not Danzo or the Kaguya or Whatshisface of the Salamander or the monster in his head. What matters is  _ Jiraiya  _ is here, the Pervy Sage is  _ here _ , back from the  _ dead _ , back with  _ him.  _ He feels an elation in his being he hasn’t felt since he’d abandoned him months ago.

“I can’t believe you’re here- I can’t believe it- Sasuke can finally meet you properly, and we can go to lunch with Iruka-sensei and you can meet Captain Yamato and-”

The ruckus they can hear even from outside makes Naruto lose his train of thought.

“Get this bastard the fuck out of here before I beat him to death!” A roars, the moment the three of them step foot inside.

There’s a crash, and a crumpled heap of black and gray on the ground, which Kakashi hurries to pull upright and cart him away.

To say the very least, Jiraiya is surprised to be face to face with Orochimaru once more.

(Naruto doesn't get enough time to wonder what he's done to upset the Raikage so badly.)

“Oro-”

Jiraiya gapes, slack-jawed and confused. Tsunade’s eyes are wide enough to nearly fall out of her head.

She isn’t the only one.

For a second or two, Orochimaru stares at the pair of them, surprise breaking through the cracks in his facade. 

He chuckles, but it’s hollow. Almost like it’s a formality.

“Tsunade,” he says, flatly, masking his shock behind a monotone. “Jiraiya. How kind of you to come.”

 


	11. Affirmations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kabuto continues proudly displaying his massive hate-boner for Itachi. Jiraiya and Tsunade talk with Naruto for a bit.

Memory is a funny thing.

Orochimaru always seems so  _ big  _ in Naruto’s mind’s eye. So tall and scary and larger than life. 

And yet-

Jiraiya hoists him into the air like he weighs nothing, shaking him like a ragdoll, slamming him against the wall. And Orochimaru-

Orochimaru seems so very  _ small. Tiny,  _ even.

Maybe it’s just because Jiraiya is so big- so tall, broad-shouldered, so overgrown everywhere. By comparison, Orochimaru’s slender frame looks positively miniscule. Delicate.  


Delicate- what the fuck.

(Likewise, Tsunade is even lighter than he thought she’d be; he hardly notices himself supporting her weight.)

“What did you  _ do?!”  _ Jiraiya demands, dark gray eyes boring into gold.

“Why must you assume everything is  _ my  _ fault?”

Orochimaru’s tone is light, almost teasing, a mockery of being offended. This only seems to rile Jiraiya up all the more.

“Knock off the bullshit, Orochimaru! What have you done?!”

“If you’re referring to your apparent undeath,” Orochimaru quips, “that isn’t my doing. That’d be your little pet Ame orphan.”

Jiraiya scowls, confusion working its way onto his face now.

“And the village-”

“-That’d be him, as well. See, Sasuke-kun put me out of commission for a good while, so I couldn’t have caused any trouble even if I’d wanted to.”

Orochimaru smirks at the shock on his old teammate’s face.

“Are you really that surprised, Jiraiya? You’d known Akatsuki’s goals for awhile- it was only a matter of time.”

The man’s head lolls to the side, yellow eyes dancing with amusement at Jiraiya’s pained countenance.

“Now, if you could kindly put me down, old friend-”

Jiraiya drops Orochimaru like he’s burning him. Orochimaru lets himself betray that tiniest bit of relief when his bare feet make contact with the floor once again.

Kakashi grabs him by his shackled arms.

“Jiraiya-sama,” he says (perfectly composed, no longer surprised by the dead returning to life), “Welcome back.”

Jiraiya reaches into his messy hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Uh- good to be back?”

He finds himself distracted when a small crowd starts to filter out of the room.

“-Sarutobi-sensei?!”

The worry in Jiraiya’s face melts away, and he beams at his teacher.

Hiruzen does not return that smile, nor do the to Samurai at either side of him.

Tsunade gently pushes Naruto off her, and takes a few slow, labored steps toward her sensei, amber eyes fixed on him.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

Sarutobi does his best to seem calm.

“Well, it appears myself and Danzo are under arrest.”

“Eh?! What the fuck for?!”

Jiraiya is outraged. Furious. Spluttering. Tsunade doesn't seem ruffled in the least, though it's hard to read her face.  


“Why would-  _ who  _ would- what’s-”

Sarutobi shakes his head.

“I’ll leave it to the others to fill you in.

He gets led out alongside Orochimaru, an outraged and stony-silent Danzo trailing closely behind, one remaining arm shackled to his side, a paper seal slapped over his right eye.

Jiraiya opens his mouth, meaning to say something, but a croak is all that comes out.

“Alright, so who’s gonna fill us in about what the  _ hell  _ we just saw?” Tsunade inquires.

“Oh boy, where do we start?” Naruto groans, pulling at the back of his neck. 

“How about with a drink?” 

(Tsunade is only half joking with the suggestion. She could really,  _ really  _ use a shot of something strong right now.)

“-Maybe you can share the details over lunch,” Jiraiya offers, clapping a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “A big bowl of shoyu ramen sounds really good right about now.”

Naruto lights up, and Jiraiya can actually hear the boy’s stomach growling in anticipation.

“Yeah yeah yeah! C’mon, I’ve got so much I wanna tell you!”

 

* * *

In retrospect, Mikoto realizes that trusting Sasuke to stay put in their hotel room wasn’t really the wisest idea.

He’d always been prone to getting himself into mischief when he was young, and no matter how many times either she or Fugaku scolded him, he had always been apt to disobey their commands when he really wanted something.

She supposes it was that same tendency that led to her finding him in the labyrinthine depths of the prison jail, accompanied by some strange young man with a rather snakelike face, and her, staring open-jawed at what was supposed to be her late eldest son.

Itachi has his head turned away from her, ashen face hidden in a fringe of dark hair. He’s rubbing his thumbs repetitively over his other fingers- something he’d always done when his anxiety was acting up (Itachi has always been anxious, the poor thing).

Except- Itachi isn’t supposed to be anxious right now. Because Itachi is supposed to be dead.

Sasuke keeps his eye trained on her as she approaches.

“Itachi- Itachi, honey-”

He tries take a step backward, but the man with the strange face makes a motion with his hand, and it seems to freeze her son in place.

“Aren’t you gonna at least say hello to your mom?”

The man’s eyes are narrow- he’s angry? But what for?

Mikoto doesn't think about that too hard. She only wants one thing right now.

“Itachi, sweetheart, I’m so sorry-”

Itachi opens his mouth, but closes it tight again, and Mikoto knows what that means. He’s always found it hard to speak when he’s afraid.

(But what is he afraid of?)

Mikoto embraces him (he’s gotten so tall, she remembers when he was  _ tiny _ ) and he flinches as though she’d struck him. He keeps his arms rigid by his sides (they’re so thin,  _ he’s  _ so thin-) and still refuses to look at her. She catches a glimpse of his eyes through his hair, and they’re bottomless pits of  _ black  _ but she can still see the fear in them.

“Don’t be so cold, Itachi.”

The man with serpent’s eyes makes another motion, like he’s tugging invisible puppet strings in Itachi’s arms, forcing them to wrap around her.

Mikoto squeezes him tightly, and wills herself not to cry, not to beg for Itachi’s forgiveness, because all she wants to do is stand here and hold her son.

She can feel those eerie yellow eyes boring into the both of them.

“So rude to your own mother. You really are the worst son, Itachi.”

“Could you shut up?” Sasuke growls. The man chortles, but he does fall silent like Sasuke demands.  


“Mom-”

“-Shh, it’s okay honey, you don’t need to say anything.” 

He’s cold, ice cold, and it makes Mikoto sad. Sad in the same way she’d been sad when she and Fugaku had sat on that tatami mat in their living room that horrible night, Itachi shaking and sobbing behind them, barely able to lift the sword he’d used to kill them.

Sasuke frowns- though Mikoto can’t see it, she can  _ feel  _ it. 

“Does anybody know?” Mikoto asks.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just us down here,” Sasuke’s snowy-haired companion answers. “So I don’t think anyone knows we’ve been fucking around with Edo Tensei.”

Oh. Edo Tensei. Right.

That makes sense, explains the cold skin and the spiderweb cracks and those dark, bottomless eyes that are just so  _ wrong  _ on her beautiful boy. 

Itachi makes an unintelligible sound, having lost the ability to speak once again.

“So uh- what made you decide to do- well-”

“I don’t know what you mean, Suigetsu.”

“Don’t expect us to believe you just did it to be nice!” A brilliantly red-haired girl (Uzumaki, Mikoto would recognize one anywhere) snaps.

The snake-man laughs.

“Well of course not, Karin. You know me better than that.”

He fiddles with his glasses.

“Orochimaru-sama always taught me to never go into negotiations without a bargaining chip. I figured a powerful undead shinobi was as good as anything.”

“My brother isn’t your puppet!” Sasuke protests.

“Except that’s exactly what he is. See, the best part about Edo Tensei is that the resurrected has to do what you want.”

“You’re sick, Kabuto.”

“You already knew that.”

Mikoto sighs, finally releasing Itachi from her grip. Itachi staggers backward, drawing into himself as though he wished to disappear completely.

“Your name is Kabuto?” she asks, meeting those otherworldly eyes of his.

“That’s right.”

She steps toward him, expression unreadable.

“Thank you for bringing back my son. However, I really should warn you-”

She smiles a tight, fake smile that makes Kabuto shiver.

“If you keep talking to him so rudely, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

He’d say something snarky back at her, but he thinks better of angering this woman.

“Now, you said Itachi was your bargaining chip- what exactly are you bargaining for?”

“Well, for starters, I’d like to avoid getting locked up if I can help it. Sneaking around in the dark isn’t exactly something I’d be happy doing for the rest of my life. As for my other reasons-”

Kabuto smiles a fake smile of his own. 

“-I’m afraid you’ll have to wait and see.”

 

* * *

Naruto frowns into his half-eaten bowl of ramen, brow knitted in concern.

The snow is heavy outside, nearly whiting out the world. But inside the cozy little cafe is warm.

“-So basically, nobody’s sure exactly why, but Nagato’s jutsu went wrong-or right, I dunno-, and people just kinda started popping back up all over the place  _ dattebayo _ .”

Tsunade hums in understanding, and Jiraiya taps his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl, the wheels in his head turning wildly.

“And where does Orochimaru come into all this?”

“Well, uh- Sasuke kinda flipped out a little bit. He brought him back, I dunno what for.”

Naruto shakes his head.

“It’s really weird, but Orochimaru just kinda let himself get arrested. And he was- with Sasuke, he was-”

He seems to have lost his ability to voice his thoughts.

But he can’t help it. It was strange, so  _ strange  _ so  _ unreal  _ to see someone like Orochimaru, so vile and unforgivable and inhuman, holding Sasuke like he was precious and murmuring comforting words to him. For a moment, Naruto had wondered if it was some weird genjutsu.

“He’s plotting something,” Tsunade says, darkly. “He has to be.”

“And if he’s here, that four-eyed punk who follows him around everywhere can’t be far behind,” Jiraiya adds. 

“But what does he want?” Tsunade mumbles.

Naruto swirls his chopsticks around in his bowl, staring into its depths like the broth held the answers he needed.

“He said something about ‘waiting for the wind to blow.’ Whatever that means  _ dattebayo.” _

Jiraiya and Tsunade don identical grim expressions.

“Whatever he means, I’m sure it isn’t good.”

(Naruto tries his very best to smile. Because Naruto always tries his very best to smile, even when he’s hurting.)

“But the important thing is that Sasuke’s back, right?” he asks, hopeful. “Sasuke’s back, and he’s safe. So I think everything is gonna be okay!”

Jiraiya feels a well of what he thinks is sadness spring up in his gut. Because he remembers a time when he’d felt hope like that. It’s been so long he can’t recall what hoping feels like.

“But what about that creepy guy? Sandaime and Orochimaru both talked to him like they know each other.”

“Eh? Danzo?”

Jiraiya scratches his head.

“He’s always been sketchy. None of us ever really liked him, but Sarutobi-sensei always said he trusted him. I never got it, but we had to accept it for what it was.”

“Sketchy is an understatement,” Tsunade says with a scowl.

“You’re telling me! Especially that fucked-up arm-”

“Arm?”

Naruto bends his own arm, gesturing at it with a disgusted expression.

“You guys shoulda seen it! It was all white and gross, and it had  _ eyes  _ in it-  _ Sharingan.  _ I’ve never seen anything weirder in my life!”

Both Tsunade and Jiraiya recoil, proclaiming “-the  _ fuck _ ?!” in unison.

Naruto sets his chopsticks aside, having lost his appetite from remembering.

“I’m really glad Sasuke wasn’t around to see that. I don’t think he woulda taken it very well. His mom and dad sure didn’t.”

“Did- did Orochimaru make that arm?”

“Yeah, he said so himself. He sounded real proud of himself, too,” Naruto huffs. 

Jiraiya pulls another face.

“-Those bastards. Figures they’d keep in touch even after he left-”

(He isn’t sure if he’s angry that they’d done such an awful thing, or angry that Orochimaru kept talking to Danzo but not to him.)

Jiraiya shakes his head, no longer hungry either.

“You think they’ll let me see him? Orochimaru, I mean.”

“What for?”

“To ask him stuff.”

Naruto wrinkles his nose.

“It didn’t exactly go very well when old man Sandaime tried.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know that  _ dattebayo!” _

“Are you stupid?” Tsunade asks. “Or do you just have a death wish?”

“Maybe I’m stupid,” Jiraiya affirms, “but like- I feel like I need to talk to him. At least once. And if he finds a way out of here, who knows if we’ll ever find him again?”

Tsunade grips her water glass tightly. 

“You never change, Jiraiya,” she quips. “Even after dying.”

“I’d hope not,” Jiraiya confirms. “But maybe I can make some good out of being undead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for everyone's continual support! It makes my little weeb heart happy! n~n


	12. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kabuto is an ass some more, Shisui's composure finally breaks, and I get Kisame in here because I love Kisame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for panic attacks.

* * *

“Eh? Whaddaya mean, you don’t wanna see him?”

Suigetsu wrinkles his nose, gesticulating in confusion though there’s no way Shisui could possibly see him.

“Isn’t he like, your best friend or something? Shouldn’t you be excited he’s back?”

Shisui shakes his head, resting a hand against the wall of his hotel room to keep himself steady.

(He feels dizzy- he didn’t even know it was  _ possible  _ to feel dizzy without eyes-)

“That’s...that’s not a good idea right now,” he mutters.

“But why not?” Karin interjects, flustered and frustrated. “He’s back from the dead! You should be falling all over yourself to meet him again!”

“You guys don’t get it,” Shisui snaps, slapping his palm repeatedly and agitatedly against the rough, uneven wall. “I just- I can’t right now, okay? Just drop it already.”

“Not until you tell us why!”

(Karin can’t understand. Just can’t understand why someone wouldn’t be dying to be reunited with one so dear to them.)

Shisui gestures to his bandaged face, gritting his teeth in an ugly scowl that mars his handsome features.

“He already fucking saw me like this once, okay? I won’t make Itachi see it all over again.”

(It’s a lie. That’s not the reason, and he knows that and  _ they  _ know that, but he won’t admit why he  _ really  _ doesn't want to see Itachi.)

Juugo’s face is blank, but the way he awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to another betrays his emotions.

“If he cares about you too, wouldn’t he want to see you either way?” He asks. 

“No- maybe- I don’t fucking know! Just-”

His heart is in his throat, his stomach twisted around his spine. His skin feels far too hot and far too cold all at once, and it’s suddenly very difficult to breathe. His hands shake so badly he can’t even manage to run them through his hair.

_ “From now on, I want you to rely on me for everything, alright, Itachi? You won’t have to worry about a thing!” _

“I-I’m not ready- I don’t wanna go through it again-”

_ (His head hurts, it hurts so bad and his eye- well, where his eye  _ **_should_ ** _ be- is bleeding so badly he wonders if he might die from that alone) _

_ I don’t wanna remember- _

But he does. He  _ does  _ remember-

_ And he’s falling, _ **_falling_ ** _ , and he can hear Itachi scream his name, feel himself sink into the rushing water, it’s freezing cold around him, flooding his lungs and he feels the  _ **_panic_ ** _ because  _ **_I don’t fucking want to die_ ** _ but he can’t find which way is up, can’t pull himself back to the surface and _ **_Itachi I changed my mind I was wrong pleasepullmeoutIdon’twanttodie!_ **

He hits the wooden floor on hands and knees, but he doesn't remember falling. 

“Hey, you alright-”

All the muscles in his abdomen contract violently, and he vomits.

“What the fuck?!”

Suigetsu’s startled cry seems muffled, like he’s hearing through layers of gauze.

Someone tries to get an arm around him, to help him up, and Shisui  _ howls  _ like he’s been burnt, shoves them away, and he can hear himself screaming  _ “don’t touch me don’ttouchmedon’tfucking _ **_touch_ ** _ me”,  _ but it’s coming to him from a great distance away, like some alien has stolen his voice.

Because he remembers the  _ pain  _ and the  _ fear  _ and how Danzo had broken his genjutsu like it was  _ nothing _ , like  _ he  _ was nothing, had stolen his  _ fucking eye  _ like it was some fucked-up trophy he wanted to hang on his wall. Remembers that horrible look on Itachi’s face, the blind panic there as he tried in vain to help him, tried to fix it, but only soaked himself in Shisui’s blood.

He remembers Itachi’s hands around his, slick and shaking, remembers his voice that drifted away as he was falling falling _ falling  _ for what felt like forever. Louder than he’d ever heard Itachi before, louder even than the air that rushed past his ears when he’d plummeted downward.

He grabs the front of his shirt like he’s having a heart attack, like he’s in agony, and he  _ still can’t fucking breathe  _ even though he’s not in the river anymore. He’s dizzydizzydizzy and he  _ can’t breathe _ , can’t bear the thought of having to face the person he’d abandoned, betrayed. Can’t bear the thought that Itachi might call him a  _ liar,  _ like the accusing voice in his head has been screaming since he’s come back to life.

He feels the weight of a blanket draping over him, feels himself being picked up and he  _ yells  _ and pleads and begs (though he’s not sure who he’s begging)-

Juugo pulls him close, holds him tightly, so he can’t pull away.

He doesn't say a word, but merely holds Shisui tightly while he screams and shakes and  _ I’m gonna throw up again- _

There’s another hand on his back, smaller, more delicate hand (Karin, maybe?) that rubs small circles until he at last starts to come back to Earth.

He’s still  _ shaking  _ and he still doesn't want to remember, but he doesn't scream anymore.

“Get a towel or something so nobody steps in puke,” Karin commands.

“Eh? Why me?!” Suigetsu whines.

“Because I said to, dumbass!”

Suigetsu grouses under his breath, but gives in to her demand.

Normally, Shisui would crack some kind of joke, but he doesn't really have the energy.

He fumbles around until he grabs a fistful of Juugo’s shirt. His body feels weak, and he hates that.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Juugo tries to reassure him, in his own, awkward way. 

(How a guy so  _ big  _ can sound so  _ uncertain  _ baffles Shisui.)

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Karin asks. Shisui shakes his head.

“I just- I dunno what the hell that was-”

“Well could ya like, not do it again, please?” Suigetsu grumbles, from the other side of the room. “Puking everywhere isn’t cool, man.”

Shisui manages the feeblest of laughs.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll uh- I need to get a grip. I know.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Karin says, in a clipped sort of tone. “You’re fine. It’s fine. Shit happens.”

She sounds almost desperate to reassure him that it’s okay, and that makes him smile for real- although it’s still unsteady.

_ These friends of Sasuke’s aren’t so bad,  _ he muses, to himself.

 

* * *

“And you expect us to be open to negotiating with Orochimaru’s-”

Oonoki gives Kabuto a skeptical up-and-down glance.

“-Son?” His tone turns inquisitive at the last word.

Kabuto chuckles, though a glint in his eye shows he rather likes the notion.

“No, Orochimaru-sama and I aren’t related by blood as far as I’m aware. Although, seeing as I don’t know anything about my ancestry, I suppose it isn’t  _ entirely  _ out of the realm of possibility.”

The old man seems equal parts confused, and annoyed that Mikoto has assembled the Kage back together for this nonsense.

“What about  _ him  _ then?” A demands, gesturing toward Itachi, who is standing, rigid and mute, at Kabuto’s side. “He doesn't look like the others- he’s-”

“Creepy?” Mei offers.

“I assume you’re familiar with Edo Tensei,” Kabuto answers, earning an enraged growl from the Raikage.

“Figures a consort of Orochimaru’s would use such despicable jutsu,” Oonoki huffs.

Kabuto grins, and the grin is unnerving.

“You brought him back for a reason,” Gaara says, flatly. “Why?”

“Well, when I heard Orochimaru-sama had been arrested, I had to come here as soon as I could. But I couldn’t just walk in as I am- that’d put me at a disadvantage. But having one of the most dangerous shinobi in recent memory gives me a bit of an edge, don’t you think?”

Gaara’s eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything more.

“Just tell them what you want,” Mikoto insists, arms folded impatiently. 

“Right, right. First off-”

Kabuto holds up a finger, still smiling, his tone still so cheerful it’s making everyone uneasy.

“-You guys aren’t gonna arrest me. Orochimaru-sama may have the patience for those antics, but I really would rather just not bother. For the second-”

He raises up another finger.

“-If I ever find Orochimaru-sama in such a despicable state again, I’ll have Itachi here kill every last one of you.”

Itachi flinches. Sasuke bites back the choice insults that play on the end of his tongue.

“Finally-”

A third finger joins the other two.

“I’d like to be present for the rest of your proceedings involving Shimura and the Sandaime Hokage. I have a feeling I can add to the conversation, if you’ll let me.”

He maintains that fake, fake smile. The Kage look at him with identical stony expressions.

“And if we refuse?” Mei asks, folding her arms in a mirror of Mikoto.

“Like I said- I’ll have Itachi kill every last one of you, along with Shimura and the Sandaime- then I’ll mark him through each and every one of your villages and use that wonderful Amaterasu of his to turn every one of them to ash.”

Frank, matter of fact. They know he isn’t bluffing. They exchange brief glances.

“...So be it,” Gaara finally concedes.

(Too easy. They’re caving in too easily. Mikoto wonders what they’re thinking.)

Kabuto claps his hands together.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad to have met such a reasonable bunch!” 

“Bastard,” A grumbles, but Kabuto doesn't retort.

“Just- one more thing,” Mei says, sounding uncertain in a way that was odd for a Kage.

“Hm?”

Her green eyes glance over at Itachi.

“Can uh- can he talk?” She asks.

“He can,” Kabuto answers, shrugging one shoulder. “Whether he will is another question- I can’t control that.”

When she tries to make eye contact with Itachi, Itachi turns his head.

(He’s doing that thing with his fingers again, rhythmically, frantically, in some vain attempt to soothe himself.)

“You were- are- whatever- Hoshigaki Kisame’s partner in Akatsuki right?”

Itachi manages a nod.

Mei takes a step forward; instinctually, both Sasuke and Mikoto put an arm out in front of him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt him, jeez,” Mei huffs. “I just wanna ask him something.”

“You couldn’t hurt him anyway,” Kabuto points out, but the Mizukage ignores him.

“Do you know where he is right now?” she demands. Itachi still doesn't turn his head.

“I don’t,” he answers. “I’ve been dead for awhile.”

“Could you find out?” 

Itachi blinks

“Why would-”

“He’s the last survivor of the last generation of my village’s seven swordsmen. And I can only assume he’s still got Samehada.  _ And  _ he’s an international criminal. Don’t you think that’s enough reasons?”

A pause. Itachi sighs, even though he doesn't need to breathe. 

“You want to use me to lure him in.”

“Bingo! See, waiting for him to find out that Kyuubi kid is here could take longer than I’m willing to wait- I want you to help speed things along.”

“How devious,” Kabuto praises, but he’s pointedly ignored again.

“I’m sure the samurai are just going to  _ love  _ us dragging all our criminal scum into their country,” A snarks.

“Just the one more,” Mei insists. “He’s from my village. I want to settle it.”

Itachi sighs again. Looks at Kabuto. Closes his eyes. 

"...I suppose I don't have an option."

When those otherworldly eyes open again, they’re the brilliant crimson of the Sharingan.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a crow, black as night and larger than normal, bursts into being, letting out an ear-splitting caw.

Itachi briefly caresses the bird, resting his forehead against its head. 

The crow’s eyes flash scarlet, and it takes off, swooping down the hallway and out the open door, before exploding into a cloud of black feathers. 

“Will he know that it’s from you?”

Itachi’s head hangs heavy; his hands can’t seem to keep still.

“...He’ll know.”

 

* * *

Kisame wonders, briefly, if the fatigue of the last few months is finally making him hallucinate. 

He dumps some of his water on his face, and slaps himself, making sure he isn’t dreaming, and not under some sort of genjutsu. Or just seeing things, because holy fuck he's _tired._  


But when he’s done with that, the crow is still there, its red, red eyes boring into him, glossy black feathers glimmering in the setting sunlight as it filters through the trees.

“...Well I’ll be fucked.”

Instinctually, he crooks his arm, the way he’d seen Itachi do a million times before. The bird takes the invitation, swooping down from its perch to land on his wrist. It regards Kisame curiously, cocking its head from one side to the next.

Surreal, Kisame thinks to himself. This whole thing feels like a dream.

(Except he’s pretty certain this is actually happening.)

“Well,” he says, feeling rather stupid for talking to a crow. “Well.”

(He’d teased Itachi a million times, when he’d crooned at those birds like they were his children, held them like they were some ancient treasure.)

“Well,” he says, once more, finally getting over the shock. “What do you want, Itachi-san?”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It made my heart hurt to make Shisui so miserable ;~;


	13. I forgive you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold the amalgamation of a metric fuckload of my Orochimaru headcanons! Also lots of feels and a sort-of makeup? I think?

“Jiraiya-sama-”

Whatever protest Kakashi has dies on his lips, lost with the sheer intensity of that look in Jiraiya’s eyes. He steps aside, and allows Jiraiya to enter the dingy cell he’s been guarding.

“So many visitors lately- my, don’t I feel special?”

Orochimaru adjusts himself so he’s sitting cross-legged on the dirty floor, tilting his head and peering up at Jiraiya through the curtain of his tangled, dark hair. 

(Orochimaru probably isn’t happy about that- that hair of his had always been a point of pride, the one vanity he’d so meticulously maintained even on long, miserable missions away from home. But it’s so unkempt now, so  _ dull  _ and  _ ratty  _ and so un-Orochimaru-like.)

Jiraiya glances at Kakashi over his shoulder, and Kakashi catches the meaning. He turns and walks away, giving them the space he’d wordlessly asked for. He steps into the cell, squinting while his eyes adjust to the poor lighting.

“Did you need something, old friend?”

Orochimaru is trying to be coy, but there’s something heavy and  _ tired _ in his voice that ruins the effect. Jiraiya sits down across from him, wracking his brain for what he wants to say first, because  _ there’s so much I wanna say, so much I want to ask, I don’t know where to start. _

“...I’m sorry,” are the first words which escape him.

Apparently, this comes as a surprise; Orochimaru’s gold eyes widen the smallest fraction.

“Whatever for?” 

(He sounds- offended? Why?)

Jiraiya bows his head, shutting his eyes.

“I had to have been a shitty friend, to let you turn out the way you did. I didn’t notice what you were turning into, and by the time I did- I guess it was too late to pull you back. I get why you’re so angry with me- I’m angry with me, too. Because if I’d been paying attention maybe..."

He pauses, swallowing around the rock that’s suddenly lodged in his throat.

“...Maybe I could’ve saved you.”

If a fly had flown through the cell door, one could’ve heard its wings flap, the silence between them is so deafening.

“...Saved me?”

The words come out in a low hiss, Orochimaru’s muscles going rigid. He looks very much like he wants to hit his former teammate.

“ _ Saved  _ me? You think you could’ve  _ saved  _ me, Jiraiya? You really are the fool I took you for!”

Jiraiya flinches like Orochimaru had punched him (though of course, he couldn’t even if he wanted to right now).

“That sort of pointless sentimentality has always been your weakness- I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, eh?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jiraiya answers, clenching his hands tightly. “Hanging onto the past is useless, I know. But sometimes there’s things in the past that are worth hanging onto.”

Orochimaru scowls. 

“You really are a fool.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jiraiya manages the barest hint of a smile, bringing the deep laugh lines of his face into sharper relief.

“But if giving up on a friend is the wise decision- I think I’d rather be a fool forever.”

He isn’t lying.

(He’d tried, really tried, to give up on Orochimaru. To stop seeing him as his friend, as his teammate, and start seeing him as the enemy and traitor he’d become. But he could never quite manage that. He hates it, hates how weak it makes him feel, but there are emotions he can never truly banish from his heart.)

Orochimaru is frowning again. He turns away from Jiraiya, hiding his face in the hair that was usually so sleek, so shiny and beautiful and oh-so-painfully soft-looking; though, of course, Jiraiya would never have dared to touch it. Touching Orochimaru without his permission was a good way to get stabbed, back then. Probably still is. 

There was only one time he’d seen someone get away with daring to touch his teammate’s greatest vanity. It had been someone’s birthday, and there was a celebration in Sensei’s office- maybe Sensei’s, but it’s so long ago he isn’t really certain.

Shimura had been there, and Jiraiya had caught them talking in a corner. He’d watched how Danzo had cupped a hand around Orochimaru’s hair, running it along the length in some mockery of an affectionate gesture. Jiraiya remembered how strange it seemed, that Orochimaru hadn’t so much as uttered a word in protest, carrying on like it hadn’t happened. Jiraiya had seen men die for less.

(Jiraiya berates himself for getting so distracted, so  _ offended  _ at the state of Orochimaru’s  _ hair,  _ of all things.)

“Do you think apologizing will fix anything?” Orochimaru berates, pulling him violently out of his musings.

“-No, not really,” Jiraiya replies. 

“Well then, you should stop wasting your breath on pointless things.”

“It’s not pointless!”

Jiraiya slams his fist into the floor. His vision is going blurry, and he  _ curses  _ himself for that weakness, too.

“Damn it, Maru..."

If it were even possible, Orochimaru’s tense body grows tenser still. 

(That name,  _ that name.  _ It’s been so very many years since he’s heard  _ that name  _ spoken aloud.)

“Sensei said- after you’d left, Sensei said you were a lost cause. Chasing after you was hopeless. You couldn’t come back. Maru- was any of it true?”

His tone is pleading, sorrowful, like a lost child, strangled with the weight of his repressed emotions.

“All the things he said you did- did you?”

Orochimaru leans against the grimy, damp wall. His cheek flattens against it, and he looks for all the world like a naughty child sitting in time-out.

(In another circumstance, this might be funny.)

“I did.” he answers. Flat. Emotionless. 

“ _ Why?!” _

“Does the why really matter?”

“It does to me!”

His voice cracks, ever so slightly.

“Maru, why’d you do it? Why’d you  _ really  _ do it?”

“Because I didn’t want to die.”

Finally,  _ finally,  _ some emotion slips back into Orochimaru’s voice.

He’s quiet, almost whispering. He still won’t look at Jiraiya.

“I didn’t want to die, and I didn’t want anyone else I cared about to die.”

A cold, hollow laugh rings through the stale air.

“Useless sentiment. I might be as big a fool as you are.”

He looks pathetic and weak and so very  _ small. _ So not like the Orochimaru Jiraiya had known and loved and trusted and cried over and tried to hate. Jiraiya screams in his mind for Orochimaru to keep talking, to try to explain what had gone wrong, so Jiraiya could learn how to put it back together...

“... ‘Jiraiya is your friend, isn’t he? I’m sure you wouldn’t want anything to happen to him- after all, you and Tsunade might be the only ones who would care. It isn’t like his father is ever going to sober up long enough to notice he’s missing-and Tsunade- Tsunade is so pretty, there’s plenty of people willing to pay a heavy price for the Shodaime’s granddaughter-’” 

“What are you on about-”

“-If it had only been my life they were threatening, I might very well have just died. But it wasn’t just me. It’s never  _ just  _ you, when Shimura makes a threat.”

His head rolls to the side like it’s too heavy, and his eyes finally drift back to Jiraiya. Jiraiya squirms, picking at a loose thread in his coat to have something to do.

“I wouldn’t let him hurt you. I would have died before that happened.”

“He-wait-what are you on about?”

“It’s natural to get attached to people, isn’t it? That’s what makes us human, right?”

(Orochimaru’s tone sounds like he’s genuinely asking.)

“I would’ve given anything to keep you safe. To keep Tsunade safe. If my dying would have changed anything- I probably would have died. But as long as I was alive, I could keep you safe. I could keep his hands off you, I could protect you. That was worth it, to me. After all- I’m just an orphan. I had no family who would miss me. So what did it matter?”

“It matters to me!”

His hands are around Orochimaru’s skinny shoulders, ragged fingernails digging into the deceptively soft flesh. Orochimaru finally meets his intense gaze, gold on gray, locking together.

“Just tell me what happened,” Jiraiya pleads. “Just tell me the truth. Tell me what went wrong.”

The gold in Orochimaru’s eyes warms, and starts to melt. 

“Please.” Jiraiya is begging, now. “Let me help you.”

“You can’t  _ help  _ me.” Orochimaru speaks as though he’s being strangled.

“Let me try- I might surprise you.”

Another pregnant silence passes for what feels like eons.  Jiraiya gingerly releases his grip, bruises in the shape of his hands already blooming across snow-white skin.

Finally, Orochimaru speaks.

“You know what kind of man Shimura is,” he says, his voice brittle. “He’s a power-hungry bastard, and he won’t let anything get in the way of what he wants. And if someone can be used to further him along his path, then he won’t be ashamed to do it.”

He turns his head away again.

“He knew everything I was afraid of. Everything precious to me. Everything I couldn’t stand to lose. It was like he’d gotten into my head and exposed everything I held dear. But he was determined to get one of us- I thought, better me than one of you.”

Disgust drips from his voice, and he’s started to shake from anger.

“I tried to hide it, when it started. I could bury the symptoms with medication, grit my teeth and pretend it wasn’t happening. But he knew- he always  _ knew. _ ”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was  _ dying,  _ Jiraiya.”

Orochimaru might as well have stabbed him- it’s his eyes’ turn to widen, his body’s turn to go stiff.

“...What do you mean?” he mumbles. 

“I thought I’d made myself pretty clear,” Orochimaru mocks. “Or do you not know what ‘dying’ means?”

Jiraiya grits his teeth, biting back a scathing remark. 

(He’s going to listen this time. Even if it hurts.)

“-It wasn’t the sort of thing any medic could fix,” Orochimaru continues. “It was in my head- literally, a defect in my brain. I’d been a time bomb my entire life- the same thing took my mother, and her father, and his grandfather before him. By the time I’d found out, I’d already started succumbing.”

He shifts his shoulders, jostles his arms, desperately wishes his hands were free.

“Everything I’d learned, everything I’d worked for and suffered for my entire life- they would disappear, and I’d be left some gibbering simpleton in a wheelchair, not even remembering what I’d used to be. I tried to hide it, but Shimura always knows.”

He draws his legs up closer to his chest, somehow becoming even smaller.

“He knew what I wanted. He knew I was desperate to cheat death. Desperate to escape the curse that’d snuffed out my ancestors. So, he offered me a deal- I’d have all the resources I’d need to carry out my research, and he’d fabricate any cover-ups I needed in the meanwhile. In exchange, I’d share what I’d discovered with him, when I was done.”

Jiraiya is back on his feet again, rocking back and forth on his heels, knuckles on the verge of bursting through the skin of his clenched fists.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. Then what?”

“-Like he knew what I wanted, I knew what  _ he  _ wanted. Once he’d finally seized the power he was after, he’d be loath to give it up. I knew exactly what he’d planned- an immortal Hokage, and his immortal puppet. What a farce- I played along because it was the only way to stop myself from-”

He stops abruptly, unable to say the word again.

“I wouldn’t leave you behind. Not when Tsunade had only so recently lost her lover. Not when you’d only so recently come back after years where I couldn’t reach you. I wasn’t going to do that. I  _ couldn’t  _ do that. Not when there was nothing else I cared about in the world.”

His voice is hoarse, raw, like he’s been screaming for ages. A vulnerability Jiraiya hasn’t heard from him in decades.

“...I didn’t mean for everything to go wrong. But Sarutobi figured me out, and Danzo let me take the fall. Just like me take the fall for the experiments with the mokuton I’d been ordered to conduct. Shimura always has someone else to take the fall for him.”

A frail, cheerless smile curls bloodless lips.

“But that was okay. It was all okay, because if I were gone- if I could convince him that I loathed you, loathed Tsunade- you’d be alright. He couldn’t threaten you anymore. You’d be okay without me.”

“That’s bullshit!” Jiraiya growls. “We weren’t  _ okay  _ without you!”

He wants to slap Orochimaru. Wants to wring his neck and shake him for being so  _ stupid. _

He’s shaking everywhere, and he feels cold all of a sudden even though he’s wearing a coat.

“...You could have told us. You didn’t have to deal with it alone. We could have-”

“-Done what, Jiraiya? Watched me waste away until I’d forgotten who you were? Cleaned me up when I became a lump of babbling meat sitting in my own filth?! Helped pick out my coffin so there’s something nice to bury me in?!”

Orochimaru bares his fangs, and Jiraiya takes a stumbling step backward.

“I wouldn’t allow it. No matter how low I had to sink to avoid it. Although I suppose it amounted to a great big pile of nothing in the end.”

Jiraiya paces the length of the tiny cell for maybe a minute. Scratches at his wild white hair. Then, suddenly, he stops.

“...I forgive you,” he says, at last.

“What-”

Jiraiya crouches down, and dares to touch that hair that had been forbidden to him for so many years, brushing it aside and tucking it behind Orochimaru’s ear. His former teammate flinches, grits his teeth- but, to both their surprise, doesn't move away.

(Even though it’s duller now, ratty and uncared for, it’s just as blessedly soft as Jiraiya always imagined.)

“I thought I made myself pretty clear,” Jiraiya teases, gently parroting Orochimaru’s words back to him.  “Or do you not understand what ‘I forgive you’ means?”

He stands up, dusting the prison’s filth off his pants. The way Orochimaru looks at him isn’t unlike a frightened child looking up at their parent.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Orochimaru. Because I forgive you. And I’m gonna help make it better.”

Like when they were young, Jiraiya gestures at himself with a confident grin, open and honest in a way that Orochimaru only wishes he could be.

“I want you to rely on me this time, okay? I promise- I won’t let you down again.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya is just too pure for this world.


	14. Akatsuki's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry if anyone was hoping for a happy reunion between Itachi and Kisame. XD

“You’re sure he’ll come, right?”

Itachi manages to nod once, eyes fixed on some vague point a great way off. Chojuro grips his sword tightly, trying his utmost not to look afraid, while Ao stands stoic and determined. Kabuto rocks impatiently back and forth on the balls of his feet. Fugaku and Mikoto have barely arrived, both their faces stony and grim. Mei has her arms crossed tight, painted fingernails digging into her upper arms. 

“What are you gonna do when he gets here?” Kakashi asks her, warily. 

“He’s a traitor to my village and my country,” Mei answers. “I dunno about you guys over in Konoha, but in Kiri treason carries the death penalty.”

There’s a sudden, sharp intake of breath from Itachi.

“You got something to say, kid?”

“...I was under the impression that execution takes place after a trial,” he says, his voice as tense as his body.

“What’s the point?!” Mei snaps back. “Everyone and their fucking dog knows who he is and what he’s done- a trial would just be a waste of time!”

“So your plan is to put him down like an animal?” Itachi growls, low and seething.

“Settle down, Itachi,” Fugaku orders. Itachi ignores him.

“He’s a human being.”

“So was everyone he’s killed. What’s your point?”

Mei glares daggers at Itachi, pointing a finger at him like she were scolding a child.

“Just because you guys were partners in a fucking terrorist organization doesn't mean you can just expect me to give him any special favors when he-”

“-He isn’t just my partner!” Itachi interrupts. “He’s my-”

“He’s here!” 

Karin’s eyes widen, and she holds her breath while she concentrates, fidgeting with her glasses.

“He’s got someone else with him too. A woman, I think-”

“Konan.”

Kakashi turns his head.

“Who now?”

“Lea- Nagato’s...friend,” Itachi answers.

“Is she gonna get in the way?” Mei huffs.

Itachi doesn't respond. He just looks over at Kabuto, then back to the Mizukage, something like panic in his eyes.

“Don’t hurt them,” he pleads. “Just let me talk to them.”

“Do what you want,” Kabuto shrugs.

“What for?” Mei demands.

“I just- please allow me this.”

“Itachi-”

Mikoto reaches out to him, but he’s already approaching the village gates. A towering, blue-skinned man and a beautiful woman come into view; Itachi’s crow rests on the man’s shoulder, preening itself as if it didn’t have a care in the world. 

“I don’t believe it-”

A sad-eyed woman with sky-blue hair breaks out into a run. She seizes Itachi’s arms for a brief moment,  looking him over in disbelief. She quickly releases him again- perhaps sensing Itachi’s discomfort.

“Itachi,” she breathes. “You’re-”

She shakes her head, emotion stealing her voice. 

More reluctantly, the hulking blue-skinned man trailing behind her approaches.

“Looking pretty good for a dead guy, Itachi-san.”

“Genjutsu,” Karin mutters. “He’s got them in a genjutsu.”

“What for?” Kakashi asks.

“Hell if I know.”

“Your clothes-” Itachi inquires, noting the plain black robes Konan is wearing.

“I’m- I’m not with Akatsuki anymore,” the woman answers.  “I was only there for Nagato.”

Kisame scoffs.

“He was pretty torn up when you died, you know. Said it was the biggest loss Akatsuki had endured.”

He steps forward- Itachi steps backward. 

“I guess even with that Rinnegan he couldn’t see what you really are.”

Itachi blinks, his composure wavering.

Kisame grabs him by the nape of the neck, pulling him close as though he were about to kiss him.

“You’re a dirty liar, Itachi-san.”

Itachi’s composure wavers- his genjutsu crumbles the moment he falters.

Konan gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth. Kisame’s eyes narrow.

“Can’t stop faking, even when you’re dead. I should’ve known.”

The crow on Kisame’s shoulder takes off, then explodes in a cloud of smoke and feathers.

“Kisame-”

Kisame takes a step forward- Itachi takes a step backward. Ao tries to intervene, but Mei holds out an arm to hold him back.

Itachi’s black  _ black  _ eyes dart from Konan, to his parents, to Kabuto- anywhere but at his former partner.

Kisame doesn't seem to like that very much.

“You know, Itachi-san, it was pretty rude of you to leave without telling me anything. And here I was starting to think you’d actually liked me.”

Itachi squeezes his hands together, ashen lips pressed tightly shut.

Kisame steps toward him again- but for every step he takes forward, Itachi takes one backwards. It goes like this, back and forth, until Itachi’s back meets with a brick wall. The people around them watch anxiously, but they decide not to intervene just yet.

“Trying to run away again, Itachi-san? I’m not surprised. Running away is what you’re best at, isn’t it?”

The man’s tone is mocking, and cold. Itachi shivers, in spite of himself. 

Kisame slams his hand into the wall, trapping Itachi, eyes narrow.  _ You can’t run away this time,  _ the gesture says, as loudly as if he were screaming it. 

“Kisame, I-”

“-You lied to me, Itachi-san.”

He sounds...hurt?

Itachi turns his head away, hiding his face behind a fringe of dark hair. Skinny arms draw upward, as if to shield himself.

“Is that guilt, Itachi-san? You’ve never felt guilty before- why start now?”

“I never meant-”

Kisame talks over him, like Itachi hadn’t said a word.

“-You know how much I hate lying, Itachi-san. More than anything else in the world, I hate  _ liars.  _ And everything you ever told me in eight whole years was a big, fat  _ lie. _ ”

If Itachi still possessed that power, he might cry. He lets out a shaky breath, even though he doesn't really need to breathe anymore.

He looks toward his mother and father, as though they could help him. Mikoto looks sadly at him- Fugaku looks as though his brain is working at a million miles an hour, processing the scene unfolding before him. Kabuto wears a grin so wide his face might split in half.

Kisame cups Itachi’s cheek, forcing their eyes to finally meet. Despite everything, Itachi leans into that touch- the side of his face fits perfectly in that hand.

“Did you really plan on leaving me in the dark? Did you think I’d just never find out? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I didn’t-”

Itachi folds his bony hands in front of his mouth, his shaking shoulders bowing under some invisible weight.

“I just wanted- I didn’t mean-”

“-To hurt me, Itachi-san?” A laugh that isn’t really a laugh rumbles deep in his broad chest. He still doesn't move his hand away.

(Itachi is cold, now. At last, he’s as cold on he outside as he’d always been on the inside, Kisame muses to himself.)

“I understand that. But the way I see it, it doesn't matter what you  _ meant.  _ What you  _ did  _ was treat me just like everyone else in this fucking world’s ever treated me; like I’m  _ stupid.  _ Like all I am is the dumb muscle to order around and use as you please, then cast me aside like I’m garbage when you decided you were done with me.”

“No!” 

Itachi startles  _ himself  _ with how loud the declaration is.

“-Kisame, it wasn’t like that,” he murmurs, falling quiet once again.

Kisame’s laugh this time is softer. Melancholy. He traces the calloused pad of his thumb along the rim of Itachi’s lower lip. It seems as though everyone now is holding their breath.

“...You know, Itachi-san, I think I finally realize why you never talked much.”

Black black eyes grow wide once more. Kisame leans in close, as though he were about to kiss him.

“It’s because the words you speak are all useless.”

All the pent-up breath Itachi doesn't need anymore flees his body in a sharp gasp.

“-Kisame, I’m-”

“Save, it, Itachi-san.”

At last, Kisame draws away from Itachi, regarding him like he were something disgusting.

“-You have no idea how useless your words are to me now.”

He looks up at the Mizukage and her guards, something resembling a smirk on his face.

“Well, I suppose the message Itachi-san sent me about the Kyuubi brat being here was just a set up, eh?”

“...You’re lucky the Uchiha brat begged for your life, or I’d kill you right here,” Mei finally says, pointedly ignoring the question. “You’re coming back to Kirigakure- we’ll deal with you then.”

“Oh? So I’m under arrest then.”

His tone is flat. Defeated. He reaches for the handle of Samehada, and Ao lunges forward. In an instant, the man is wrapped in a million sheets of origami paper. Kabuto restrains Itachi when he tries to interfere, and Mikoto tackles him while shouting something about  _ treating my son like some toy- _

Chojuro is hurled meters away, skidding to a stop in a snowbank. Kisame grumbles in aggravation.

“I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that Itachi-san isn’t the only one who doesn't trust me.”

With one swift motion, he hurls Samehada at Terumi’s feet, where it lands with a dull  _ thud.  _ He puts his hands in the air, his face becoming inscrutable.

“Well? You said you wanted to arrest me. So here I am- ready to be arrested.”

“Kisame?” 

Konan looks worriedly at him, but Kisame has clammed up, and doesn't say another word.

Kakashi watches while the man is led away by an irate Ao and flustered Chojuro, Terumi close behind. He hears Karin clear her throat, and gather the nerve to address Itachi.  


“Did uh- did we just watch you two break up?” 

Itachi hides his face- if he still had blood, she imagines that face would be flushed.  


“...It appears so.”

Fugaku finally puts one and one together, and opens his mouth.

“So he- you- and him- you were-”

Itachi groans.

Kabuto finally disengages himself from Mikoto, grumbling obscenities under his breath and dusting off his robes.

“Did you bring me back to humiliate me?” Itachi asks, dejectedly.

“Not exactly- although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having a great time watching,” Kabuto answers. This earns him a sharp whack upside the head from Mikoto.

“I told you not to talk to my son that way!”

Kabuto shakes his head. With a quick motion, a giant stone coffin rises from the ground, capturing Itachi within it before being swallowed up again.

“Such a stubborn woman. I see where Sasuke gets that from.”

“Be careful how you speak to my wife,” Fugaku warns him. Kabuto only laughs.

“My apologies, Captain.”

He disappears in a cloud of smoke before Fugaku can say anything more.

Konan folds her arms, still perfectly placid at the surface.

“...So,” Kakashi says, addressing her at last. “You’re with Akatsuki?”

“I was,” Konan answers. “Right now all I’m doing is running Amegakure, since Nagato is gone.”

“So Akatsuki really was running Ame.”

“That’s right.”

“So I’m assuming Hanzo is long dead?”

“Of course. Nagato killed him- him and everyone close to him.”

Kakashi makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Did the Rinne Tensei bring him back too?” he asks.

“No,” Konan answers.  “I think it only went back so far.”

“Naruto said that the Rinne Tensei only brought back people killed by Akatsuki,” Kakashi continues, daring to move a bit closer to her. “The Uchiha were killed before Itachi joined Akatsuki- so how did that happen?”

“Itachi had made a deal to join Akatsuki before he killed the Uchiha,” Konan replies. “So Nagato probably saw him as Akatsuki, even back then.”

“Why?” Mikoto demands.

“He had two requests when he joined,” Konan answers her. “His first was that Konoha remain untouched by Akatsuki for as long as he was part of it.”

“Okay,” Fugaku acknowledges. “What was the other?”

“That Akatsuki would keep watch over Uchiha Sasuke- again, for as long as he was part of the organization.”

“And you guys agreed to that?” 

“Of course we did. Nagato felt that honoring the wishes of our members was the best way to ensure loyalty. We did the same for Orochimaru when he asked for us to watch Mitarashi Anko when he first joined.”

“Hm.”

Konan unfolds her arms, resting her hands on her hips instead.

“”I’m gonna guess you didn’t know about Itachi, then.”

“He never told anyone,” she confirms. “Although, if he had, Nagato wouldn’t have been any less than sympathetic. 

“Hm.”

Kakashi mulls over what he wants to say next.

“Hey- maybe you should stay around for the rest of the summit. You’re technically your village’s leader, right? I’m sure I could talk them into letting you stay.”

Konan ponders this for a few precious moments.

“If you can promise me Kisame won’t come to any harm,” she decides. “I’m not Akatsuki anymore, but he’s still a dear friend of mine.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

It’s starting to snow again; Kakashi looks up at the sky, slowly brightening with the first hints of dawn.

“Let’s get somewhere warm,” he says. “We can talk it over there.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love, everyone <3


	15. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fugaku is trying his best, okay?! 
> 
> Also, Tenzo is a precious smol bean and I will protect him at all costs.

“You now I don’t like that habit of yours.”

Fugaku takes a long drag on his cigarette, acrid smoke flooding his lungs, nicotine taking the edge off his ragged nerves.

“I know, I know,” he answers, not quite looking at his wife because he knows what expression will be on her face.

(Another breath. Another cloud of smoke. Idly, Fugaku thinks it’s odd that one could be resurrected with all their vices intact.)

The sky is that beautiful pink of sunrise, though still far too early, perhaps, to be awake.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!”

Fugaku stubs out the remains of his cigarette and immediately lights another.

“Talk to me then,” Mikoto urges. “It’ll help.”

He knows she’s frowning- he can hear it in her voice. He knows he should speak, but he doesn't quite know how to voice these feelings in his head.

“...Itachi,” he finally answers.

“Darling?”

Another drag on his cigarette. A heavy sigh.

“Itachi and that...that man.”

“Darling, you can’t mean- I mean, Itachi isn’t any less just because he-”

“-It’s not  _ that  _ part that’s bothering me,” Fugaku clarifies. “I don’t care if he’s a- well, if he prefers men. That’s his own business.  But for God’s sake, Mikoto, how old is that guy?!”

The hand that isn’t holding his cigarette grips the opposite arm tightly.

“I don’t like it one bit, Mikoto. That guy’s over thirty, easy. Itachi was barely over twenty when he- well.”

Mikoto’s brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t like the idea of some criminal taking advantage of my son!”

“Fugaku, be fair!”

Mikoto’s frown deepens. 

“We don’t know what their relationship was like. We don’t know how they got together.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t have the utmost confidence in Itachi’s decision-making abilities.” 

“Fugaku!”

“Where am I wrong, Mikoto?!”

Fugaku feels his temper flare up red-hot, despite his best efforts to swallow it.

(He’s had a bad temper for most of his life. It’s the thing he hates most about himself.)

“...For one reason or another, Itachi was taken in by people who abused his trust and talked him into doing awful things he didn’t want to do. What makes you think he’d change that pattern after we died?”

Mikoto bites her bottom lip, her frown deepening. Fugaku sighs once more, feeling frustrated and drained. He runs a hand over his hair wearily.

“I’m worried about some sleazy older guy taking advantage of my son while he was in a bad situation. That’s all. I hope it was okay- but the point is we don’t  _ know  _ what happened. It’s bad enough Sasuke spent so much time with Orochimaru-”

Mikoto grabs his shirtsleeve, fighting against the urge to cry.

“...I know,” she answers. “I heard the rumors, too. But Fugaku, you don’t think Sasuke- you don’t think he-”

“I don’t  _ know. _ And that’s what’s killing me.”

Mikoto draws a shaking breath.

“What do we do if it’s true?” she asks.

“If any of it’s true,” Fugaku answers, “I’m gonna kill the bastard. And make sure he  _ stays  _ dead this time.”

“Darling..."

Mikoto loops her arms around him, laying her head against his chest.

“...Come to bed,” she murmurs. “It’s been a long day. You’re exhausted.”

As her words sink in, Fugaku realizes that, yes, he really  _ is  _ exhausted. He becomes keenly aware of his tense, aching shoulders, at how  _ heavy  _ his eyelids feel.

(It’s a funny thing. Even when the world is crumbling around you, you still get hungry, and you still get tired and the sun still rises and sets as though nothing is wrong.)

He puts out his half-smoked cigarette and follows her back to the hotel room, where Mikoto has already set up their futon. 

Sasuke has fallen into an uneasy sleep, tossing around and babbling strings of nonsense. Even in sleep, his face is scrunched with worry, the noises escaping him small and fearful.

Mikoto is by his side in a heartbeat. She shushes him softly, smoothing his hair and kissing his forehead, tucking Takachin into his arms. Sasuke clutches the stuffed animal in a crushing grip, making a noise halfway between a sob and a moan.

It makes Fugaku sad. Makes him angry. Makes him feel  _ helpless  _ in a way that makes him absolutely hate himself. He has to turn away.

He lays down on the opposite end of the room, digging the heels of his hands into his aching eyes. Wishing he weren’t so useless. Wishing he knew how to fix this  _ absolute clusterfuck  _ he’s apparently left behind.

(He’s starting to think maybe he should’ve stayed dead.)

Eventually Sasuke’s whimpering dies off. Mikoto joins him on the futon, cuddling up close to him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she assures him.

But even she sounds like she doesn't believe it.

“...Do you think we did the right thing, back then?” he asks, silently cursing himself for being so unsure.

“Well,” Mikoto mumbles, “what else were we supposed to do? Just let the clan get taken advantage of forever?”

Fugaku closes his eyes, the smallest fraction of reassurance loosening the knot in his gut. The warmth of Mikoto’s body against his back helps soothe him, just a little.

(He’s pretty sure he it's useless to even think about trying to sleep.)  


 

* * *

“Hey, I’m here to tag you out.”

Yamato raises an eyebrow at Anko.

“You sure about that?”

Anko folds her arms, and shoots him an absolutely filthy look that chills Yamato’s blood.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” she scolds, through clenched teeth.

“I know, but-”

“I’ll be fine. You need to get some sleep, too.”

Her scowl turns into a frown.

“I can handle it, okay? I can handle  _ him. _ You don’t need to fuss over me.”

Yamato glances over his shoulder at the steel door, then back at Anko.

“Alright then- but I’m taking the key with me, okay?”

“Whatever blows your skirt up.”

Tentatively, Yamato allows Anko to take up guard, though he doesn't have much intention of sleeping. 

Coffee. Yeah, coffee will help. Coffee fixes everything. Something warm to drink, and maybe something to eat, if he can manage it, and he should feel better.

Or maybe he’s just lying to himself.

As if he’d read his mind, Kakashi is just outside the prison, a cup of coffee in each of his hands. He hands one over before Yamato can say a word.

“...Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Kakashi sounds tired.  _ Looks  _ tired. But at the same time, he looks restless, and uneasy.

“So,” Yamato says, after a few seconds pass. “I heard about that woman.”

“Yeah?”

“What’d she tell you?”

Kakashi is scowling, Yamato can tell. He shivers, and can only pray it’s because of the cold.

“Let’s just say the Kage are gonna be a bit grumpy,” he answers, scratching at the back of his neck.

“That bad?” Yamato asks.

“It might cause some trouble when they find out she was with Akatsuki,” Kakashi grumbles. “But with all the shit she has to tell them, I dunno if they’re gonna get pissed at her or not.”

Yamato’s brow knits together while he processes the information.

“And you think she’s telling the truth?”

“She doesn't have any reason to lie.”

They start walking aimlessly, trying to enjoy their coffee.

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. She disappeared somewhere, and she didn’t tell me where. But she promised she’d come back when we needed her, and I trust her.”

The soft sounds of morning fill the space between them as they walk, until Yamato breaks the silence again.

“Senpai?”

“Hm?”

Yamato nearly crushes his coffee cup with the strength of his grp, anxiety making him unsteady.

“I’ve got this awful feeling that something really bad is gonna happen.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t even know,” Yamato answers, shaking his head. “I just can’t shake the feeling.”

Kakashi cringes.

“...Yeah,” he says, after a while. “I’ve got that feeling, too.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“Right now, I don’t think there’s much we  _ can  _ do.”

It’s Yamato’s turn to scowl, and they’re silent for what feels like an eon.

“You gonna talk to them?” Kakashi finally asks.

“Huh?”

“You know. About your time in Danzo’s organization. I’m sure they’ll wanna hear about it. I can vouch for you if they don’t think they can trust you.”

Yamato’s heart gains a mind of his own, slamming itself against his ribs like it’s trying to burst out and fly away.

“I uh- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Are you scared?”

“Wha- I-”

He sighs.

“-Absolutely terrified,” he admits.

“Don’t even worry- I’ll stick with you the whole time. It’s not like you have to deal on your own. We’re friends after all, right?”

A shaky, uneasy smile crosses Yamato’s face.

“...Alright then. If they ask, I won’t hold anything back.”

“Awesome.”

Yamato can feel Kakashi’s smile from beneath his mask, and now his heart is racing for an entirely different reason.

(He tells himself that the flush in his face is just because it’s cold.)

“You think you should like, write some notes or something, so you know what you wanna say?”

Yamato shakes his head.

“When the time comes, I think I’ll know what I need to say.”

 

* * *

“Have you been up all night?”

Sakura nods sheepishly, giving Tsunade her best  _ please don’t be mad at me  _ look.

“...That makes two of us,” Tsunade says, with a wry chuckle.

Sakura fidgets.

The hotel lobby is deserted at this early hour, leaving the two of them alone. They’re both curled up on the cozy, oversized sofa with mugs of hot tea, the teacher’s worried face mirrored in her student.

“You holding up okay?” Tsunade asks.

Sakura shrugs.

“I guess so. What about you, Tsunade-sama?”

“Eh, I’ll live- I’ve had worse, y’know.”

Sakura looks like she doesn't believe her, but decides not to press the matter any further. 

Tsunade gnaws on her painted thumbnail- a coping mechanism she’s used to vent her stress for as long as she can remember.

“Do you think they’ll let you be Hokage again?” Sakura asks, curling chilled fingers around her mug of tea to warm them.

“Fuck if I know,” Tsunade answers, honestly. “They probably think I’m weak after what happened during Akatsuki’s attack. Even if they let me, I don’t know if they’ll have any confidence in me again.”

“So what do you think we should do?”

Tsunade grimaces.

“I don’t like it, but I think the best thing is to pick a different Hokage.”

“...Do you think it should be Sandaime?”

“I don’t know,” Tsunade repeats. 

She stares into the depths of her tea, half wishing she could drown in it. But, rather than try that, she takes a long drink, cringing at the bitter taste.

(The tea is bad quality, but Sakura couldn’t find any sugar to take the edge off.)

“Tsunade-sama-”

Sakura curls up on the sofa, a cross between anger and sadness on her face.

“-Do you think he and Danzo could’ve done all the awful things Orochimaru is saying they did?”

“That depends,” Tsunade replies, cautiously. “We know that Orochimaru isn’t the most trustworthy person in the world. But at the same time..."

She can’t bring herself to finish the thought. 

“Sandaime-sama is your sensei, right? You know what sort of person he is, don’t you?”

“I-”

Tsunade chews on her lip, then her thumbnail again.

“...I thought I did,” she finally answers. “But now I can’t be sure.”

Seeing her mentor so unsure, so lost, instills the sort of fear in Sakura’s heart she hasn’t felt since Sasuke ran away.

She wishes her mom and dad had come with her, so she could talk to them for comfort.

A samurai approaches them, standing tall, though he looks uneasy.

“Tsunade-sama,” he says, “the other Kage wish to speak with you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	16. Darker Dealings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea continues to be spilled. Sasuke continues to cope poorly.

Jiraiya has to stifle the snort that escapes him at the comical expression which crosses Danzo’s face when he spots Itachi. And another, once he realizes who is standing beside him. He refrains, because it’d make him look bad in front of the Kage, but allows himself to savor the grim satisfaction of the old man’s shock.

“You-” he seems at a loss for words, mouth agape as he stares at the two standing before him.

“Miss me, Danzo-sama?” Kabuto chirps. “I suppose it might be a bit of a shock- I do look a little different than the last time we met, don’t I?”

He’s answered with silence.

“I’m hurt- I took those Chuunin exams  _ seven _ times, and nobody recognized me, even once! But now that my whole face is different, somehow you remember me!”

Kabuto sounds genuinely offended by this; he picks at the sleeve of his robe like it’s annoying him. Sarutobi shrinks back a bit; Danzo merely glares.

Itachi has his hands pressed firmly over his mouth, like he’s worried he’ll say something he shouldn’t. He looks away from Danzo and Sarutobi’s stunned and horrified faces.

“Itachi?” Hiruzen’s voice is barely louder than a whisper. “What happened to you?”

The boy shuts his eyes tightly at the sound of the former Hokage.

“He’s in kind of a bad mood, so you probably won’t get much out of him,” Kabuto advises.

Itachi opens his eyes again to glare at Kabuto, but Kabuto brushes it off.

Danzo and Hiruzen are led to seats placed before the long, u-shaped table where the Kage are already sitting- Tsunade fills in the place of the Hokage, Jiraiya standing by her side. They watch their former mentor with unreadable expressions. 

(They had been expecting an argument- a shouting match, maybe even violence. But Tsunade had simply been offered her seat, without so much as a snide remark from the Tsuchikage. Jiraiya would be suspicious, but for the life of him he can’t catch a hint of any sinister intent from any of them. Hell, A had even greeted her with a half-smile and a clap on the back.)

Kabuto watches everything with that too-wide smile that warps his face.

“And you’ll tell us if he tries to put anyone in a genjutsu, right?” Gaara asks, turning his head toward Karin, who’s standing a few feet away, accompanied by Juugo and Suigetsu (who look like they’d been dragged here by force, and would rather be anywhere else.)

Karin fiddles with her glasses.

“I- yeah, I can do that,” she answers.

“Good. We’ll count on you for that.”

A brief silence.

“So,” Mei says, “what’s the deal with you two meddling in my village’s affairs and pissing off one of our clans?”

“None of that was Hiruzen’s doing,” Danzo insists, almost sounding annoyed at the very idea. “He’s always been soft- never having the guts to do the things that needed doing. That’s been a burden that’s always fallen to me.”

He looks like he might cross his arms, if he still possessed both of them. Sarutobi gives him a dirty look.

“The Kaguya were a bunch of vicious, bloodthirsty brutes- I can’t see why you’d be upset to see them gone.”

“They were still citizens of my village!” Terumi declares, rising to her feet. “ _ My  _ village! And you cost us the entire clan, along with dozens of shinobi we couldn’t spare putting down their rebellion! What was the point?!”

“Well, think about it from his perspective,” Kabuto offers. “If that rebellion succeeded, then Kirigakure would crumble, leaving a power vacuum that Konoha could step in and fill, maybe taking control of Kiri’s jinchuriki in the process if they’re lucky. And if it failed, then at the very least, one of Kiri’s oldest and strongest clans is eliminated, which at least weakens Kiri’s position. It’s a win-win for him either way.”

Danzo growls.

“Don’t pretend I’m wrong,” Kabuto sneers at him. “You’re pretty predictable when it comes down to it. Honestly, I’m sure if you would’ve allowed the Uchiha’s coup to happen if they were as sloppy about it as the Kaguya had been. Too bad they were so much more patient and organized, so you couldn’t get away with that.”

From the way Danzo’s face is turning blotchy pink from anger, Jiraiya can only assume Kabuto has hit the nail right on the head. This is confirmed when the man finally manages a few words.

“-It’s just as he’s said.”

“Well then.”

The Mizukage still manages to be cooly composed, turning her eyes from Danzo to Hiruzen.

“I suppose the only question remains how much  _ you  _ knew about this.”

Hiruzen draws in a long breath through his nose. The chains around his arms rattle as he shifts uncomfortably.

“...I always let Danzo handle the village’s darker dealings. I gave him perhaps more leeway than I should have allowed, and he obviously took advantage of that. Trusting him was my mistake.”

“Seems like a lot more than just a mistake,” Tsunade retorts.

Jiraiya clenches his jaw to hold back a remark of his own.

(He’s bad at talking. Always been bad at talking. So it’s best to let Tsunade do most of it.)

Tsunade doesn't turn her head when she addresses Kabuto.

“Was Orochimaru aware of Danzo’s meddling with the Kaguya clan?” she asks.

“Of course,” Kabuto answers. “Orochimaru-sama maintained plenty of connections within Konoha so he could keep track of all the goings-on, and Danzo made a point of keeping in contact with him to keep access to his research. But Orochimaru-sama decided he would rather watch how things played out than interfere. After all, bad things tend to happen to people you care about if you get in Danzo’s way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jiraiya demands, his restraint finally worn out.

“Obviously that there are people Orochimaru-sama cares about and doesn't want harmed.”

“As if a person like  _ him  _ is capable of caring about anything other than himself,” Oonoki grumbles

Kabuto’s yellow eyes narrow; his hands twitch and curl into fists.

“You don’t know the first thing about Orochimaru-sama,” he says, flatly. 

“I know enough.”

“You know  _ nothing!” _

Before Jiraiya can even blink, Oonoki’s grandchildren each have Itachi by one of his arms, keeping him from lunging at the Tsuchikage. Kabuto quakes from barely-contained rage.

“-If you say another bad word about Orochimaru-sama, I’ll kill you,” he hisses.

“Woah! Hey! Take it easy!” Jiraiya cries out. “We’re here to talk, not to kill each other!”

The look Kabuto gives him in response turns Jiraiya’s blood to ice. However, he does recall Itachi to his side, and goes silent. Oonoki mutters a few choice expletives under his breath. Itachi hides his face in the fringe of his hair; he shakes as badly as Kabuto, but for an entirely different reason.

“Let’s get back to talking, then,” Gaara offers. The tone of his voice is strange, and his brother and sister step closer to him like they’re worried he might be the next to lose his temper.

“Yeah, let’s.”

Tsunade interlocks her fingers and squeezes tightly.

“Sarutobi-sensei,” she begins, keeping her voice level as best she can. “You say you didn’t know anything about what Danzo was doing. But you had to have at least suspected it wasn’t anything good. And as Hokage, why didn’t you make it a priority to keep track of what he was doing?”

“Obviously my faith in him was misplaced,” Sarutobi answers.

“No shit,” Jiraiya spits. “What the hell else went on right under your fucking nose?!”

“I’d imagine you could fill a whole book with all the grizzly details,” Kabuto shrugs.

There’s a heavy pause, where nobody dares to speak for several long moments. Until, at last, Mei dares.

“In the interest of the Raikage’s blood pressure, we’ve kept Orochimaru out of here until now,” she says. “You think we should bring him in now?”

She looks at Tsunade expectantly. Tsunade ignores the anxiety, the pit in her stomach, and nods her consent.

“...I suppose now’s as good a time as any.”

 

* * *

“Sasuke-kun?”

Sakura takes a nervous step toward Sasuke; he doesn't make any indication that he’s noticed her.

The boy is rocking back and forth- slowly, but persistently. His stuffed hawk is still tucked firmly in his arms, and he stares blankly up at the clear sky.

“Sasuke-kun, you’re supposed to stay inside right now, remember?”

Still no answer. Sakura dares to put a hand on his shoulder; Sasuke flinches, and immediately ceases his rocking.

“Come on- I don’t want you getting into any more trouble.”

“...Just mind your own business,” Sasuke mumbles, shrugging her hand off.

“Sasuke-kun-”

“Just leave me alone.”

(He sounds lost. So lost. Like a little boy left alone in the dark.)

“Well-”

Sakura takes a deep breath to steel her nerves.

“If you’re gonna be out here when you shouldn’t- maybe we should get some food? Have you eaten today?”

Sasuke doesn't answer, but he pulls a face that makes Sakura suspect that the answer is no.

“Come on- you, me, and Naruto can get some breakfast. There’s a café I saw yesterday that looks pretty good.”

Sasuke makes a noise like he isn’t keen on the idea, but accepts that Sakura isn’t making a request. Still looking painfully like a lost puppy, he allows her to take his arm and lead him to fetch Naruto from his room.

Naruto is bleary-eyed and groggy when he answers the door, his blond hair in even more of a disarray than normal. The fog clears from his blue eyes the instant he sees Sasuke.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat!”

“Wha-”

Naruto barely has time to slip his sandals on before Sakura tugs him out of the hotel room he’s sharing with Kakashi and Yamato.

The café is as cozy on the inside as it looks from the outside. The waitress is perhaps a bit too friendly, and a little bit distracted by the two good-looking young men who accompany Sakura, despite the pair of them looking disheveled and exhausted.

Naruto tucks into a giant breakfast, while Sasuke nurses a cup of black coffee despite both his friends insisting he should eat something.

“Not hungry,” he mumbles, though his growling stomach gives his lie away.

“At least eat some bread or something,” Sakura urges him. “You’ll feel better.”

Sasuke stubbornly shakes his head.

Naruto pauses in the middle of stuffing his face. He swallows hurriedly so he can speak without being scolded for being rude.

“Hey, something wrong?”

Sasuke shoots Naruto an icy look.

“The fuck do you think, dumbass?”

Sasuke probably intended his words to be harsh, but his voice is hoarse, and they instead come out weak and pathetic.

Naruto frowns, and shoves a frosted pastry toward Sasuke.

“You need to eat,” he insists.

Sasuke flinches away from the pastry like it might burn him. 

“Eh?”

“I don’t want sugar,” he almost-whimpers.

Naruto almost wants to get angry at him. To shoot insults at him, to make Sasuke yell, to get  _ some  _ sort of reaction other than  _ lost.  _ Because he isn’t sure how much more of that dead-eyed stare he can bear.

Sakura keeps a careful eye on him while he fumbles around for what he should say.

“S-so, uh- now that Pervy Sage is back, maybe you can finally meet him properly. I don’t think you ever really got the chance before-”

Sasuke doesn't answer. He picks idly at the bread Sakura offered him, refusing to look at either of them.

“Or- or Sakura-chan and I can meet your new friends?” Naruto offers. “I think we’re gonna be stuck here awhile, so we’ll have plenty of time to hang out-”

“-Would you shut up for a minute?”

Sasuke grips the edges of his chair; he’s begun to rock again, rhythmic, desperate. He shuts his eyes like he just doesn't want to be awake.

“...Sasuke?”

He stands up, though his legs shake the smallest fraction. He turns to walk out of the restaurant. 

“Sasuke!”

“Leave me alone!”

Sasuke slaps Naruto’s hand away, but Naruto grabs him anyway, holding him fast.

“Please. Just- I need-”

He can’t finish his thought. 

(What  _ does  _ he need? He isn’t even sure anymore.)

He feels breathless, afraid. And he absolutely  _ hates  _ that feeling.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the love, everybody! All the comments and kudos make me squeal in happiness <3


	17. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi is stuck babysitting Team Seven again, Shisui is depressed, Orochimaru is done with this shit, and Konan gets to join the list of people who make big, dramatic entrances :D

“You three are gonna give me a fucking aneurysm, you know that?”

Kakashi rubs his temples like his head is throbbing, giving his students a look of exhausted annoyance.

“What part of ‘Sasuke needs to stay in that hotel room unless we call him out’ is too complicated to understand, exactly? Or do you guys just like stressing me out?”

Sakura and Naruto bow their heads apologetically.

“We were just getting bre-” Naruto tries to explain.

“There’s no excuse, Kakashi-sensei. It was my idea, so I’ll take the blame,” Sakura interrupts.

Kakashi takes a deep breath through his nose.

“You guys are gonna be the death of me.”

Sasuke doesn't seem to be paying attention. His gaze is fixed somewhere far away, his eyes unfocused and glassy, turned toward the mountains in the distance. 

“Well, I guess I’ll make sure you get  _ back  _ there before you can make asses of yourselves.”

When Kakashi takes Sasuke by the upper arm to lead him off, he doesn't so much as flinch. He follows docilely, without so much as a peep in protest. Naruto and Sakura follow, wearing concerned faces.

(It just doesn't seem right to see Sasuke so compliant, so beaten-down and broken. It’s contrary to the pride, the stubbornness Naruto had always associated with his friend.)

“Come on in!” Shisui calls, when Kakashi knocks on the door.

He’s laying flat on his futon, and if he had eyes he’d be staring at the ceiling. He turns his head toward the noise of the door opening.

“Hey, Sasuke. Kakashi was kinda pissed when I told him you weren’t here.”

Sasuke doesn't answer.

“Everything still going to shit?” Shisui asks Kakashi.

“More or less,” Kakashi answers.

“...Itachi still there?” 

“He is.”

Shisui sighs, and lays his hands over his face.

“I’ll stay put for now, then.”

Kakashi shrugs a shoulder, and finds a spot to sit down.

“That’s fine with me. I’ll just be staying here too, to make sure  _ someone  _ doesn't leave again.”

Sasuke glares, but doesn't have a retort.

“What, is he in time-out?” Shisui laughs.

“Not exactly,” Kakashi explains. “But the Kage would rather he stays out of trouble and keeps his head down while we sort everything out. And  _ I’d  _ rather he be where we know he’s safe.”

“I’m not gonna  _ do  _ anything,” Sasuke finally mumbles.

“I know you’re not- because I’m gonna keep an eye on you to make sure of it.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, and heads toward the bathroom. Kakashi finds a comfortable spot on the floor and pulls a book out of seemingly nowhere.  He opens the book to a dog-eared page and pretends to read it. Naruto mutters something under his breath about not being able to finish his breakfast, rummaging through the room’s miniature fridge looking for somethingto eat.

Sakura snags a glass of water from the sink, casting continuous, concerned glances toward both where Sasuke had disappeared, and Shisui.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asks. “You aren’t hurting or anything, are you?”

“Nah, nothing like that,” Shisui answers. “I’m just depressed. Gimme awhile and I’ll be fine, yeah?”

Sakura’s brow knits together, the gears in her head whirring. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Well, would it help?”

Shisui huffs.

“What, you wanna listen to me whine about how fucked in the head I am and how I’m really wishing I’d stayed dead? ‘Cause that’s not exactly fun conversational material.”

He rolls over onto his belly and buries his face in his pillow.

“Just wanna lay here forever, so just do shit without me, okay?”

Sakura wants to scold him, but something tells her that scolding would be unproductive. As much as it pains her, she lets it go.

“What’d they call that other girl away for?” She asks Kakashi instead.

“She’s a sensory type,” he answers. “She’ll be able to tell them if Danzo tries to use a genjutsu on anyone.”

Sakura nods, finding a place to sit as well, joining in on the grand Waiting Game that seems to have consumed their lives. They hear the shower running- she supposes that's what Sasuke's doing in the bathroom.  


She wishes she’d been allowed to accompany Tsunade to that meeting, but the men who came to fetch her insisted that there was no place for her there.. Anxiety has her insides all in knots, and she hates that feeling. 

 

* * *

Jiraiya expects Orochimaru to be his usual haughty self, aloof and cold and condescending. Probably smirking- probably snarking at the Kage, and at Danzo. 

But surprises are a dime a dozen these days.

Orochimaru doesn't look haughty. Or arrogant or cold or anything else. Really, he just looks  _ exhausted.  _

Tired eyes turn from Jiraiya to Tsunade, then to his sensei, then to Danzo. He shuts them for a second, takes a breath, then turns them toward the other Kage.

“You wanted to see me?” He sounds as utterly exhausted as he looks.

As his answer, he’s led to the chair beside Danzo and Sarutobi. Kabuto catches the deep bruises that ring his upper arms.

“Who hurt you?” He growls, yellow eyes narrowing dangerously.

(A sharp twinge of guilt twists in Jiraiya’s gut- those bruises are his fault.)

Orochimaru just shakes his head, his eyes lingering on Itachi for a moment before drifting over to Kabuto.

“I’d supposed you would be studying the Edo Tensei while I was away, but I didn’t expect you’d learn it so soon. I’m impressed.”

Kabuto perks up, unconsciously leaning just that little bit closer to his mentor. Like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head after doing a trick. It might honestly be cute, in another circumstance (and with someone who looked less eerie).

Orochimaru manages a smile, but it’s forced, and tired. Then, he looks over at the assembled Kage.

“Well then,” he says, “You brought me here to ask me questions. So here I am.”

 

Gaara rises from his seat. He is eerily calm, quiet, hands flat on the table to keep himself steady.

“You were the one who killed my father, the Fourth Kazekage, correct?”

His brother and sister join him in attempting to stare a hole clean through him.

“That’s correct,” Orochimaru answers.

“Why?”

“He’d gotten cold feet about aiding me in my planned assault on Konoha, so I disposed of him.”

Kankuro grits his teeth,tensing his entire body to keep himself from lunging at the man. Temari clenches her fists, angry tears welling in her eyes. Gaara, however, is as placid as ever.

“...Thank you for your honesty,” he says, taking his seat again.

(Calm. Too calm. Even Orochimaru is uneasy at the dissonance of the boy’s serenity.)

“That’s the only question I have.”

He receives disconcerted looks from the other Kage. But he doesn't say another word. 

Jiraiya digs his fingers into his upper arms, a deep frown cutting across his face.

“I’ve got a question,” he says. 

Orochimaru cocks his head; he doesn't look at Jiraiya.

“Yes, old friend?”

Jiraiya clenches his jaw, swallowing thickly to try to quell his racing thoughts.

“How long exactly did you know Hanzo was dead and didn’t think to tell anyone?”

Orochimaru cocks his head in the other direction.

“Hmm. I’m not sure- a decade, at least. Surely ever since I’d joined Akatsuki.”

A swell of hot resentment crosses over Jiraiya’s consciousness.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?!”

“Because of  _ him, _ ” Orochimaru replies, gesturing toward Danzo with his head.

The man has been silent so far, but from the odd color he’s turned, he’s pretty close to either foaming at the mouth or throwing a childish temper tantrum.

“I’d spent a few years playing messenger between Hanzo and Danzo- I wasn’t exactly saddened when I went to Amegakure to find him dead. Although I was pretty surprised to find Jiraiya’s little orphans responsible for his death.”

Eyes turn toward Jiraiya. Both he and Tsunade tense up.

“-Orphans?” Mei asks.

“Yes- there was no shortage of orphans in Amegakure, with all the fighting going on. It just so happens that the three we came across after the fight with Hanzo which gave us our name stirred up Jiraiya’s sentimentality. He took them under his wing and sent Tsunade and I back to Konoha without him.

Sarutobi looks up at Jiraiya, startled.

“You did what?”

Jiraiya pulls at the back of his neck.

“...They needed somebody to look after them. I figured, I could teach them some stuff, and they could go on and teach some other kids. So they could look after themselves.”

“And Tsunade and Orochimaru knew-”

“-We lied about what he was doing, yes,” Tsunade cuts in. “We lied because we knew you’d be upset- on top of it being against at least a dozen different laws. But Sensei, you know Jiraiya. He was heart-set on what he wanted to do, and Orochimaru and I knew that the only way to stop him would have been to kill him. Obviously that wasn’t something either of us was prepared to do.”

Orochimaru nods along.

“I took charge in making up the grand tale of Jiraiya needing time to himself. All Tsunade had to do was play along and confirm wherever we’d decided Jiraiya was on this imaginary sabbatical of his.”

“But he’d sent letters-” Hiruzen mutters.

“-Letters I’d forged,” Orochimaru corrects him. “Neither of us wanted you to send anyone out looking for him, after all.”

Danzo gives Orochimaru a black look.

“You never were one to miss an opportunity to spin a web of lies, were you?”

“What can I say? I learned from the masters.”

Orochimaru savors the angry silence his words instill in the two men. Jiraiya’s eyes dart between his two friends.

“You guys- you really did that for me?”

“What else were we supposed to do?” Tsunade shrugs. “You would’ve wound up thrown in prison if they found out you were training kids from outside the village, Sannin or not.”

“Such a great idea that all turned out to be,” Oonoki scolds. “I would’ve expected Hashirama’s granddaughter to have more sense than to behave like some silly little girl for her friend’s sake.”

“You certainly shouldn’t be a stranger to making exceptions to the rules where favoritism is concerned, Tsuchikage-sama.”

Though it’s still a tired, worn-out sort of smile, mirth brings a spark of life back to Orochimaru’s eyes.

“From what I’ve heard, Deidara-kun got away with murder when he was under your care. And don’t forget- he was part of Akatsuki as well. He wasn’t exactly an innocent soul.”

This effectively shuts the old man up, though he grouses almost inaudibly.

“-More to the point,” Orochimaru continues, “Akatsuki took over Amegakure after Hanzo’s death, just as the rumors said. Hanzo, his parents, cousins, grandparents, his nephew, his wife and child, his friends- all wiped out. As a matter of fact, their leader wanted to kill me, as well- merely for consorting with him. I’m still surprised I talked him out of that one.”

He moves like he wants to fold his arms, only to be reminded of his shackles.

“I said nothing, because even I wasn’t sure what Danzo would do if he found out Hanzo had been killed. Even catching wind of a small band of revolutionaries in a tiny, backwater village was enough to panic him.”

“What do you mean?” Tsunade asks. 

(She’s started chewing her thumbnail again. She must be nervous.)

“I’m sure you’ve heard. Danzo framed the old Akatsuki’s optimistic leader for the deaths of a few high-ranking Ame shinobi. It outraged Hanzo so much that he decided the poor boy just had to die- and we all know how that ended.”

A rush of air answers Orochimaru’s last statement, a million pieces of origami paper flooding into the room, congregating in front of Danzo. The entire room jumps half a foot in the air.

The paper takes the shape of a beautiful woman, clothed all in black, with sky-colored hair and amber eyes. Those eyes are narrowed dangerously, that beautiful face twisted with rage.

Both Itachi and Orochimaru blink from surprise- they never thought Konan capable of such an expression.

“You-” she hisses, low, deadly. “Yahiko is dead because of you.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that bit about Danzo arranging for Yahiko's death is canon. Yes, Danzo did sink that low XD


	18. Return and return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longer I think about it, the more characters I realize have to be brought back. Sooo- here's Yahiko, Asuma, and Deidara. Along with the implication of Konan being wrong about Hanzo still being dead~
> 
> And for those who've been asking me where the fuck Obito is- well, he's here now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with me while I went on a short hiatus. Unfortunately, my life fell apart. The short of it is, I finally moved out on my own, and my mother isn't the happiest about it. Anyway, that's enough about me!

* * *

“Fugaku.”

Hyuuga Hiashi stands with his arms folded, wearing a stern expression which Fugaku copies.

“Hiashi,” he replies, in the same flat, disinterested tone.

They stand silent in Hiashi’s tent for a long moment, staring each other down.

Then, Hiashi’s face melts into a warm smile. Fugaku follows suit.

Hiashi clasps Fugaku’s hand, and pulls him into a brief embrace. They pat each other on the back, each allowing themselves to laugh.

“It’s good to see you,” Hiashi says, looking him over like he can’t believe his eyes. 

“Same,” Fugaku says. “It’s been too long.”

“I wish you’d come back at a better time,” Hiashi laments, glancing around his sparse tent. “Things are a little fucked at the moment.”

“I noticed.”

They step outside, looking over the devastation. 

The reconstruction work has been stopped for the night. People mill about by firelight, sharing food and talking in uneasy voices.

“If your clan had been here, none of this would’ve happened,” Hiashi growls. “The village relied so heavily on the Uchiha to protect it- we didn’t have a chance without you.”

Fugaku sighs.

“Funny that the village decided to wipe us out, then.”

Hiashi’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

“Fugaku, what are you-”

“It’s a long story.”

Fugaku shakes his head.

“The short of it is that my son was ordered to do what he did. Because the elders decided we couldn’t be trusted.”

Hiashi glowers.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either.”

The two men stand silently once more.

“They’re talking about it now, in the Land of Iron. I’m not sure what they’ll decide once everything is out in the open. But whatever happens- I’d like to know I can count on your support.”

Hiashi nods.

“If what you’re saying is true, you can count on the Hyuuga, no matter what,” he assures him. 

“Thank you.”

More silence while Hiashi digests this new information.

“...It never did make any sense,” he admits. “Itachi always seemed like such a good kid.”

“He is,” Fugaku answers, without hesitation.

“But why would he go through with it?! Why didn’t he tell you as soon as he got the order?!”

Fugaku shakes his head again. 

“No idea. I never understood Itachi, and I’m his father.”

Hiashi half-chuckles.

“I feel the same way about Hinata.”

“How is she, by the way? I haven’t seen her since she was little.”

“She’s doing better.”

Hiashi’s posture turns rather sheepish.

“...I was awful to her. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for it. I wanted so badly for her to be strong, but I didn’t realize she already was.”

As if she could sense she was being spoken of, Hinata appears. Her brow is knitted together, her face pulled into a deep frown.

“Daddy?”

The man’s composure returns so quickly it’s unnerving.

“Yeah?”

The girl gestures with her head.

“Um- I found someone. I think- well, you should come see him.”

(Her voice is still so small, so soft. It’s hard to hear her when she speaks.)

Fugaku and Hiashi follow her.

“Where’s Hanabi?”

“She said she’d stay with the guy while I got you. I don’t think he’s dangerous, but um-”

She trails off like she’s not sure how to finish the thought.

Hanabi is sitting on an overturned tree, accompanied by a man with a crop of unkempt red hair. The man is clothed in a ragged black cloak, emblazoned with the crimson clouds of the Akatsuki.

He raises his head toward his new companions, and blinks a few times.

Hiashi speaks first.

“You’re Akatsuki?”

“Yeah.”

The two men don’t give an indication that they’re nervous.

“And who are you, exactly?”

“My name’s Yahiko.”

“And what are you doing still in my village?”

“I don’t even know how I got here in the first place.”

Yahiko scratches his head, and pulls an unflattering face.

Although by all appearances, Yahiko is a grown man, his mannerisms and way of speaking belong to someone far younger. Like he’s a teenager stuck in a grown man’s body.

“I know this sounds crazy, but I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be dead.”

He seems a bit surprised that nobody else seems to be.

“I was- I mean, I remember dying. I’m pretty sure anyway. But I’m still-”

Fugaku takes a step forward.

“Funny thing that- I’ve been dead too.”

Yahiko’s eyes go wide.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I’ve got no reason to do that.”

Yahiko digs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I need to find Konan and Nagato,” he groans. 

“Who?” Hanabi asks.

“My girlfriend and my best friend,” Yahiko answers. “God, I bet they were devastated when I-”

“-Is Konan the one with blue hair, and that piercing in her bottom lip?” 

Yahiko leaps to his feet.

“Yeah! Where is she?! Is she alright?! Where’s Nagato?!”

He leaps forward- maybe to grab Fugaku’s shirt, to plead with him- but trips over his own feet and plummets face-first into the dirt.

“Damn it-” he groans. “When did my legs get so long?”

Fugaku puts an arm out when Hiashi tries to approach. The man who acts more like a boy struggles back to his feet.

“That woman is in the Land of Iron. She’s supposed to talk to the Kage.”

Yahiko’s brow furrows.

“And- and Nagato? He’s with her, right?”

Fugaku remembers what Naruto had said, and his heart sinks.

“He’s dead.”

Yahiko sucks in a great rush of air.

“...No way..."

He puts a hand to his forehead. 

“Nagato- he can’t be- Jiraiya-sensei said he was the-”

Yahiko stumbles backward, and Hinata has to grab him to stop him from falling again.

“Please, just take a breath. It’s gonna be okay,” she urges him.

“...Nagato-”

Fugaku folds his arms. Hiashi can see the wheels in his head turning.

“We can take you to that woman- Konan, right? She can probably tell you more than I can. Jiraiya-sama is there too.”

Yahiko snaps to attention.

“Jiraiya-sensei-”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Please. I want to see them.”

Fugaku makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Are you sure you want to leave again so soon?” Hiashi asks. “We could certainly use you to keep things orderly around here.”

“I could go instead-” Hinata suggests. “Naruto-kun is there, and I want to see him. I’d be happy to take Yahiko-san with me.”

Hiashi closes his eyes briefly, hesitation crossing his face.

“That’s… that’s fine. Just- be careful.”

“I will, Daddy.”

“Be safe, Neechan!” Hanabi chirps.

“I will!” Hinata repeats.

She urges Yahiko to start walking forward.

Fugaku casts one last look at Hiashi as they start to leave.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

“I look forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

“I missed you so much-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m here, it’s okay.”

Kurenai chokes on her emotions, clinging to Asuma tightly.  He holds her tightly as well, taking a great, shaky breath to keep steady, valiantly attempting not to become overwhelmed.

After an eon spent like this, Kurenai finally gains her composure enough to disentangle herself from her lover’s embrace. 

“-There’s someone who’s wanted to meet you,” she says, tugging him into her makeshift shelter. 

She reaches into a wooden crate, pulling out a tiny bundle of blankets. The bundle makes a small, fussing sound; a tiny hand reaches out from the fabric.

“Mirai, this is your daddy.”

All of a sudden, Asuma can barely breathe. He reaches for the tiny bundle, eyes wide, hands shaking.

An itty-bitty hand wraps around his finger. Wide brown eyes that look just like his peer upward, through a crop of dark hair just like Kurenai’s.

(A daughter. He has a daughter.)

“...Hi there, kiddo,” he manages. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, and he isn’t sure why it’s there. It might be because he’s just so _happy_ to be reunited with his wife, to meet his kid- but it might also be his guilt.

Guilt that he wasn’t there for his daughter’s birth. Guilt because Kurenai had to have their child without him, in the middle of all this devastation. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“What for?” Kurenai asks, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I wasn’t- I should’ve been here. I’m sorry.”

His lover shakes her head adamantly.

“Don’t say that.”

She kisses his cheek, and tucks Mirai into his arms.

“You’re here. It’s wonderful. It’s alright.”

Kurenai’s eyes betray the myriad emotions she’s trying to bury. The uncertainty, the relief, the anguish and the fear.

“It’s going to be alright from now on. So you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

The anxiety in her voice tells Asuma that Kurenai doesn't believe her own words.

Cradling his child in one arm, he pulls Kurenai close with the other.

“We’re going to make it alright,” he promises. “And I’m never going to leave you again.”

“Damn well better not.”

Asuma laughs uneasily.

“Watch your language in front of the baby!”

“Ah, to hell with that! She won’t remember it anyway!”

Despite the million worries bouncing around in Asuma’s head, he’s able to forget them for this brief moment, and merely be here with his lover, and his daughter.

 

* * *

“ _ Rrgh _ , how long do we have to wait around for something to happen  _ dattebayo _ ?!”

“If they want us in there, they’ll call us in there. Be patient.”

Despite his admonition, Kakashi is a bit restless himself.

Naruto grumbles, laying his head down on the coffee table in defeat. 

Shisui is still laying down, though whether he’s asleep or awake is hard to tell. Sasuke is huddled in the corner, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He allows Sakura to rub circles on his back, to stroke his hair and murmur reassuring words to him; it’s more than a little strange, given how much Kakashi remembers Sasuke  _ hates  _ being touched.

He still pretends to read his book, though he’s not even sure what page he’s on anymore. A shadow passes outside the window. None of them think anything of it at first.

But then it passes over again. And again.

Kakashi sets his book aside and stands up.

He doesn't make it to the window to check.

A great explosion makes the entire building shake.

The five of them get thrown into the far wall. Naruto swears- Shisui yells something like  _ the fuck is going on-  _ Kakashi has a good idea already.

While he herds his group of teenagers out of the hotel, he wonders just how many people are gonna come back from the dead before things finally calm the hell down.

Outside, he spots what’d been causing the shadows.

A bird. Well, it’s shaped like a bird, anyway.

“Kakashi-sensei, isn’t that-”

“-Everyone get down!”

“ _ Katsu _ !”

When the deafening  _ bang  _ is over, and the dust finally starts to clear, about a third of the hotel has been turned to rubble. Kakashi feels a sudden wave of nausea, his ears ringing loudly enough to drown out almost everything around him.

“Okay, what the  _ fuck-” _

Shisui’s face is gray, his voice shaky from fear.

“You bastard-”

“Sasuke!”

Sasuke scarcely has the time to rise to his feet before he’s slammed back down by a whirlwind of ferocity and long blond hair.

“Why couldn’t you have just fucking died?!” Deidara roars, through angry tears. “You just fucking  _ had  _ to humiliate me one more time, didn’t you?!”

When Sasuke doesn't answer quickly enough, Deidara strikes him across the face.

Sakura grabs a fistful of gold hair and yanks him backward. Sasuke blinks from surprise, but maintains his silence.

“Ow ow fuck let  _ go  _ lady!” Deidara howls, throwing his meager weight around in a vain attempt to break free.

“Hit him again and I’ll kill you,” Sakura growls, murder in her eyes.

She locks her arm around his neck, holding him fast despite his thrashing.

“Lemme go, bitch!”

“Sasuke, are you alright?”

Sasuke doesn't look at Naruto. He nods once, in acknowledgement, but keeps his head turned away as though he’s embarrassed. 

“Senpai!”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Deidara is snatched from Sakura’s grip, and pulled into a crushing hug.

“Senpai, you’re alive!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, kudos etc. Makes me happy :D


	19. Change my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Tobi. Way too much. I'm so sad he's only in the one scene ;~;

“Konan-sama, please-”

The rarity of Itachi actually speaking up is enough to get the woman’s attention. Still gripping a fistful of Danzo’s robes, she turns her head toward the boy behind her.

Itachi reaches a hand out toward her; the gesture says everything his blank face hides. The woman looks at that hand, rather than his face, internally debating whether or not she should be angry with him.

“...Please. Don’t put yourself in a bad position by being reckless,” he urges. “You deserve better than that.” 

Konan draws a large, shaky breath, then turns back to Danzo.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” she says, flatly, coldly. Then, she lets him go. Danzo’s one eye bores into both of hers.

“You’re a hundred years too young to be speaking to me like that,” he sneers.

Konan ignores this. Instead, she looks at Sarutobi. She tilts her head, eyes narrowed. Then, without looking, she addresses Orochimaru.

“Nagato still considered you Akatsuki, even after your betrayal. I’m surprised.”

Orochimaru shrugs.

“He seems like the sentimental sort,” he muses. “I’m not entirely shocked.”

“-Who are you, exactly?” Gaara interjects.

“Currently, I’m the leader of Amegakure,” Konan answers. “Formerly, I was the second in command of the organization formerly known as the Akatsuki.”

(Jiraiya looks very much like he wants to melt into the wall and disappear.)

All the air rushes out of the room. Heedless of the stunned and angry faces around her, Konan turns to face Itachi.

Evidently, she has decided not to be angry with him. She frowns at him like she’s in pain.

“I’m sorry you had so little faith in us that you couldn’t tell the truth,” she says, mournfully. “Nagato would have understood.  _ I  _ would have understood.”

“It wasn’t a matter of faith.”

Itachi is fiddling with his hands again, unable to keep himself still. Konan just shakes her head.

“I guess it can’t be helped. From what I’ve heard, at least, I can’t blame you for what you did. I’m sure it was a difficult choice to make.”

Itachi hides his face to cover up his shame.

(Konan’s quiet disapproval stings as badly as Kisame’s anger.)

“Aw, feeling guilty again? I didn’t know you cared so much,” Kabuto chuckles.

Konan doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, her attention turns to Oonoki.

“I assume you’re the Tsuchikage?”

The old man glowers at her.

“I am. What of it?”

“If people killed by Akatsuki have returned to life, that means Deidara should be back as well. You should send someone out to search for him.”

“How would you-”

“He killed himself while he was part of the organization. He’s Akatsuki. Do I need to draw a picture?” Konan sniffs, allowing annoyance into her voice.

Once the news sinks in, Oonoki and his grandchildren exchange looks of total shock.

“I- I wanna go look for him,” Kurotsuchi insists. “I wanna find Deidara-nii.”

“Not on your own, you aren’t!”

“Grampa-”

“Don’t talk back to me, young lady!”

Oonoki huffs indignantly.

“You’ll take Akatsuchi with you. Once you find him, we can decide what to do with him.”

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“I’m old, not dead!” 

“Right, right.”

Kurotsuchi and her brother leave the room in a hurry. Konan speaks at Mei next.

“Mizukage-sama, can I have a word?”

“Depends on what you want.”

“It might be a bold request, but if I might- I’d like to speak with Kisame.”

Mei pulls a face.

“What for?”

“Just to be sure he’s alright. He’s a member of Akatsuki, as well as a friend of mine. For my sake, for him, and for Itachi, please-”

Mei grumbles under her breath.

“...If the samurai are willing to allow it, then I suppose it’s fine,” she concedes.

“Thank you.”

“-But don’t mistake this for a gesture of trust,” Terumi warns. “We’ll be watching you.”

Konan doesn't so much as blink.

“Fine by me.” she replies.

Now, at last, she looks at Jiraiya. He flinches, but won't allow himself to look away.

"Konan-" 

"There's nothing you can tell me that's worth me listening to," Konan informs him, coolly. "Please save your breath."

 

* * *

“Senpai I can’t believe it! You went  _ boom _ ! I thought I was never gonna see you again!”

“For fuck’s sake Tobi, let me go  _ hn _ !”

Tobi does not heed this demand, Crushing Deidara tight against his chest and swinging him back and forth.

“Oh, Senpai, it’s been so lonely this last little while! I didn’t get a new partner after you blew up, and it’s scary by myself!”

Deidara finally manages to break free, stumbling away and nearly toppling over.

“What the  _ hell  _ is going on  _ hn _ ?!” he demands of his partner.

“Well, not too long after you went  _ kablammo,  _ Itachi-senpai bit the dust, too! He and Sasuke-chan over there got into a big fight, and in the end he just kinda went  _ bleh. _ ”

Tobi flails his arms around wildly. The too-long sleeves of his cloak make small swishing noises as they flap around.

Sasuke stares in slack-jawed shock, unsure of what to make of the scene unfolding before him. Naruto scoots closer toward him, so he can protect him if he needs to. Sakura keeps wary eyes turned toward Tobi.

“So then Sasuke-chan and all his friends got to join Akatsuki, too! They got sent after the hachibi, but they got tricked and he ran away! But while they were doing that, Leader-sama decided he wanted to attack Konoha- so he did that!”

Tobi flops forward a bit, like he’s about to tell Deidara some secret.

“But something went wrong, Senpai. So Leader-sama’s not around anymore, either.”

Deidara’s blue eyes go wide.

“Wait. he’s-”

Tobi mimes slashing his throat; he lets his head loll to the side.

“Dead! Pushin’ up daisies! Gone to the big Akatsuki hideout in the sky! That’s why everyone else is coming back!”

“No way-”

“Yeah way!”

Tobi points off in the distance.

“Kisame-senpai got arrested when Itachi-senpai called us over here- the creepy snakey dude with glasses brought him back, but like, he’s really weird-”

He holds his arms out in front of him, and takes a few shambling steps.

“-He’s like a zombie or something!”

Deidara puts a hand to the side of his head, struggling with the information that’s just been dumped on him.

“You’re fuckin’ with me..."

“-Could you cut the crap already?”

Deidara’s head turns so quickly he might end up with whiplash. Sasuke’s eyes are dangerously narrowed, glaring at Tobi and refusing to acknowledge Deidara.

“What’s  _ your  _ problem  _ hn _ ?”

Sasuke continues to ignore Deidara, to his increasingly visible annoyance.

“What’s the point of the stupid charade, Madara? Nobody’s buying it but him.”

“Ma-”

“Well, I thought it’d be easier to talk him down if I were familiar to him.”

The color drains from Deidara at the sudden baritone Tobi’s voice takes on. His face goes gray when he finally catches the crimson peering out from the hole in that orange mask. He takes a step backward; Tobi grabs him by the arm.

“Why so scared all of a sudden,  _ Senpai _ ?” he practically purrs.

“Let go damn it!”

Deidara pulls backward so hard it’s a miracle his arm doesn't come off. He looks at his former partner the way a rabbit might look up at a hawk.

He yelps when, without warning, he’s pulled into the spiral vortex of the Kamui.

“Quite the mouth on that one.”

Kakashi dares to approach the man.

“What’s the act for? Who the hell are you?”

Tobi tilts his head.

“You don’t already know? I’m hurt.”

“What-”

The other man seizes Kakashi by the throat.

“Sensei!”

Both Sakura and Naruto lunge forth to grab him, but they’re already long gone.

“What the hell  _ dattebayo _ -”

“W-where’d they go-”

“...Okay. Someone wanna tell me what the  _ fuck  _ just happened here?”

Shisui fumbles around for something to pull himself up with, rubbing the knot already swelling in his head.

“I’m not...not sure,” Sakura mumbles.

“Well, who the fuck were those guys?”

“Nobody important,” Sasuke insists. 

“Not important  _ dattebayo _ ?! That mask guy just kidnapped Kakashi-sensei!”

Sasuke shakes his head.

“We gotta tell someone Kakashi got taken,” Shisui says, slurring his words slightly. “Gotta get help-”

“What can we do?” Naruto whines. “Nobody else can use that jutsu!”

“I...Itachi talked to me once, about that guy who called himself Madara,” Shisui admits. “A guy he’d met in the forest. Maybe he’d know something we could do. He was always saying shit like 'every jutsu has a weakpoint.' Maybe he'll know what that is.”

“You think Kabuto would let him help?” Sakura asks, warily. 

“Worth a shot.”

“What about your head?”

“I’ll be fine. My brain is just a little scrambled- just give me a second.”

“C’mon Sasuke,” Naruto urges, tugging Sasuke back to his feet. “We gotta get your brother!”

Wordlessly, Sasuke follows Naruto’s commands. Shisui allows Sakura to take his hand and help him along.  


(Because he's still so _helpless_ right now. So fucking _useless_ without his eyes. Without his Sharingan.)

 

All Kakashi can make out, for as far as his eye can see, is an endless expanse of black, punctuated by legions of luminescent white boxes

“What’s going on?” he demands, over Deidara’s string of loud profanities. “Where-”

“-You of all people should know where this is,” Tobi answers, sitting on the edge of one of the white boxes. “It’s Kamui.”

Kakashi rubs his eye and pulls himself upright, half of him hoping this is just a dream. A dream or some strange genjutsu.

“You- are you actually Uchiha Madara?”

“Nope. I never was.”

Kakashi’s brow furrows.

“So why lie?”

“Because the name ‘Madara’ contains a bit more clout than the one I was born with.”

Deidara finally seems to have gone quiet. 

“Why would you need clout?”

“Well, the plan was to have Sasuke disrupt the Kage Summit, and preferably kill Danzo so I could get ahold of all those Sharingan he’s collected. Then I was gonna announce myself as Madara to the rest of the Kage and declare the Fourth Shinobi World War.”

Kakashi can’t help but be incredulous- especially since this guy is seemingly spilling his guts on a whim. But he has a feeling he should keep the guy talking.

“What’d you need Sasuke for, then?”

“I guess you could call me a collector of sorts- I like keeping people I think could be useful. Besides- I knew it would annoy Itachi, and I wasn’t about to pass  _ that  _ opportunity up. I’m a rather petty person, see.”

Kakashi moves too quickly in his scramble to stand up, wincing in pain.

(He’s gonna be bruised to hell in a bit, he’s already sure of that.)

“Why do you want a war?”

The masked man presses a gloved finger to an approximation of where his lips should be.

“That’s my secret.”

“And...why are you telling  _ me  _ this plan of yours?”

Tobi is now so uncomfortably close to Kakashi that the ceramic of his mask brushes his nose.

“Because something even more entertaining just popped into my head.”

He reaches upward, and pulls the mask off. Reveals a face mangled and scarred on one side- but on the other…

The other half is so familiar that, even after all these years, Kakashi could recognize it in an instant.

Suddenly, Kakashi can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t even believe his own eye.

“I want you to change my mind, Kakashi.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	20. Three-Day Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito grabs Itachi's teacup and spills it all over the floor. Oh, and war is coming, look busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for implied child sex trafficking

* * *

“What is the meaning of this?!”

If not for the shrieking of Oonoki’s chair against the floor, it would be impossible to tell that the man has stood up. He looks on the group of intruders with the most intimidating look he can muster.

“What makes you brats think you can just barge in wherever you want?!” A concurs. He’s also standing, though this is a significantly more imposing gesture on him.

“Kakashi-sensei is gone!” Naruto cries out.

“What do you mean?” Tsunade demands.

“It’s the same guy in the mask that held everyone back when Sasuke-kun was fighting his brother,” Sakura explains. “Deidara attacked Sasuke, and the guy showed up out of nowh-”

“-Deidara?!” the Tsuchikage interrupts, sounding almost frantic. “Where is he?! What happened to him?!”

“-That Tobi guy grabbed him, too,” Sakura answers. “It looked like he uses the same Kamui Kakashi-sensei has-”

“Which means that guy’s either Uchiha, or he stole that eye off one,” Shisui chimes in. “But the way that blond guy knew him, he wasn’t one of the ones who-”

A small  _ thud  _ grabs everyone’s attention.

Itachi has fallen backward, into a tangle of long limbs and heavy fabric on the floor.

“What’s your problem?”

“Shi-”

The rest of what Itachi tries to say trails off in a strangled  groan. Shisui pulls at the back of his neck and makes his best attempt at a smile.

“...Hey, ‘Tachi. It’s been awhile, yeah? Sorry if it’s a bad time. I uh-”

Kabuto forces Itachi back onto his feet, but cannot force him to speak.

“Listen, ‘Tachi-” Shisui’s voice cracks several times. “-Sasuke called that guy Madara. Is he really? Do you know if that’s the same guy you told me about? What’s going on here?”

Itachi presses a hand to his mouth; he’s begun to shake rather badly. 

“They got Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura declares. “If you know anything about the guy that took him you need to tell us!”

Itachi opens his mouth, but all he can manage is a croak.

“Niisan-”

Itachi flinches when Sasuke touches him. Sasuke looks at him like a lost puppy, pleading in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks, barely louder than a whisper.

“Sasuke-kun, you don’t look well.”

Even though Orochimaru seems genuinely concerned, Sasuke ignores him.

And still, Itachi can’t speak.

“Tachi-”

“Oh, this is too painful to watch.”

The entire room becomes about ten degrees colder from fear.

Out of thin air, the man calling himself Madara materializes. In one hand, he has Kakashi by the back of his shirt; the man hangs like a ragdoll, unconscious. In the other, he holds Deidara fast by a fistful of his blond hair, while the boy struggles and protests weakly, only half-lucid himself.

“You of all people should know he doesn't talk when he’s in this sort of state,” Tobi scolds Shisui. “And here I thought you knew him better than anyone.”

He shoves Deidara forward, in the general direction of the Tsuchikage, and drops him onto the floor. Deidara lets loose a string of garbled profanities which would make Hidan blush.

“This is yours.”

Oonoki is, for once, at a loss for words.

Next, the man pushes Kakashi toward Sakura. Sakura has to catch him to keep him from collapsing. 

“You didn’t need to panic. I was just borrowing him.”

“What did you do to him?!” 

“Nothing that’d cause him any permanent harm.”

Kabuto doesn't stop Itachi from grabbing Sasuke by the arm, and forcing him behind him. Sasuke yelps in protest. Itachi glares at the man who claims to be Madara; he brushes Konan aside when she tries to get between them.

“There’s no need to give me that look. I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just here to talk- same as everyone here- well, everyone besides you, anyway.”

(One could practically  _ feel  _ the smirk that’s undoubtedly behind that orange mask.)

“I suppose we can call it even, now. Deidara’s unprovoked attack on Sasuke for Sasuke’s attack on the Hachibi.”

Oonoki turns a startling shade of scarlet, spluttering out an incoherent retort. Tobi’s aura of smugness grows stronger still.

“So, Itachi, how long are you planning on keeping this ‘stubborn-wall-of-bricks’ act up for their sake?”

More angry silence. Tobi grabs his chin when he tries to turn his head.

“Shisui’s already spilled about what really happened that night. You know you can’t hide everything else. You can’t run from it anymore, so you might as well start talking, too.”

Itachi’s eyes dart toward Danzo and Hiruzen, whose eyes are boring into him.

“I know more than you think I do, boy. If you decide not to tell the truth, I’ll go right ahead and tell them for you. Or I’m sure either of the snakes over there would be happy to share their part.”

Sasuke grabs a fistful of Itachi’s sleeve.

“Niisan, what is he going on about?”

He gives his brother a small shake when he doesn't get a response. From the way both Kabuto and Orochimaru’s eyes go wide when Madara mentions them, they know what he’s speaking of.

“Damn it, Itachi!” Shisui yells. “These guys already know plenty of the awful shit that went down! What could make it any worse?!”

When Itachi still can’t manage a retort, Orochimaru speaks.

“You’re familiar with the concept of a honeypot, aren’t you, Shisui-kun?”

“Eh?”

Were he capable, Shisui would probably have blinked from surprise. Kabuto flinches. 

Hiruzen’s face is...hard to describe.

“What...what do you mean by that?” Shisui dares to ask.

A shadow darkens Orochimaru’s face.

“Surely you can guess.”

Orochimaru’s voice is low, coarse, rough with emotions he’d rather not show, but can’t hold back.

Itachi shuts his eyes.

“Some people have...specific  tastes. And some of those people sit in positions of great influence. If you know what those are, you can get anything you want from them for a simple trade behind the Kage’s backs. It’s all the easier when you aren’t the one paying the costs. Only difference in the way Konoha ran is that Sarutobi-sensei knew, but decided to look the other way.”

Hiruzen makes a small, pained sound.

“It was mostly orphans- children who wouldn’t be missed if they never returned. Nobody to be angry if they cried out for help. But Itachi-kun was far too special to just let him pass by. Keeping him under control and ensuring his loyalty was worth the risk. Isn’t that right, Shimura?”

Danzo looks completely unashamed when his eye locks onto Orochimaru.

“That’s right.”

There’s ice in Orochimaru’s voice, and in his yellow eyes.

“So you allowed him to be sent off to have the worst sort of evil done to him. Listened as he cried and asked what he’d done wrong when he came back broken. And told him that, if he dared to speak a word of what he’d endured, everyone he ever cared about would meet with a fate worse than death. Isn’t  _ that  _ right?”

Horror drains the blood from Tsunade’s face.

“That’s not- how do you-”

“Because it’s what happened to me. To me, to Kabuto, to Deidara-kun and to Nonou-san and to Sasori and to Itachi-kun and god knows who else.”

Orochimaru doesn't look at Tsunade, because he can’t bear to. The fleeting look he gives Jiraiya nearly stops the heart that’s only so recently begun beating again.

(It’s been decades since he’s seen such a heartrending expression on his former friend’s face.)

The Kage are dead silent, listening with rapt attention. Orochimaru has to stop for a moment, as though his confession has caused him great pain. Itachi is shaking so badly the tremors are visible.

“Orochimaru-sama,” Kabuto whispers, strangled with the weight of his emotions.

He takes a tremulous step forward. 

“Orochimaru-sama, why would you-”

“-Sometimes you have to stop running in order to face down your opponent.”

Kabuto doesn't have the presence of mind to ask Orochimaru what he means. He takes yet another step forward.

“Get this off him,” he demands through gritted teeth, tugging at his shackles. “Let him go.”

“Eh?! What makes you think we’d let you-”

“-Here.”

Tobi leans over to fish a key out of one of Kakashi’s pockets. He tosses it over to Kabuto, who barely manages to catch it. The shackles clatter to the floor, and Kabuto throws himself into Orochimaru’s arms. 

“Orochimaru-sama!”

A wet sob wrenches its way out of Kabuto’s throat. Orochimaru shushes him, rubbing circles on his back.

(Jiraiya notices the mottled bruising wringing Orochimaru’s wrists and up his arms.)

“Shh. Shh, it’s alright. You’re alright. You’re okay.”

For a brief moment, Sasuke locks eyes with his older brother.

“Niisan- Niisan, what is- is this true?”

When Itachi opens his mouth, his voice is hoarse, thin and painful.

“...‘A shinobi must unquestionably obey the orders given to him. He must accomplish his mission without fail. Entirely forgetful of himself, a shinobi will use whatever means necessary to accomplish the task at hand, no matter what that task may be.’ Shinobi guidelines thirty-three and thirty-four.”

If an insect were to fly into the room, one would be able to hear it buzzing. The ticking of the clock on the north wall is deafening.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Terumi finally manages.

“You think any of your villages are innocent?” Orochimaru sneers. “You could build a colosseum with the skeletons in each of your closets.”

“-Especially the Bloody Mist,” Tobi chimes in, before anyone can retort.

His one eye burns a hole straight through the Mizukage.

“Nohara Rin.”

“Who?”

“She died at the hands of Kirigakure. Kakashi let her die because Kiri soldiers made her into a jinchuriki with the intent of siccing her on Konoha. It was by the doing of  _ your  _ shinobi.”

He casts a half-pitying, half-disdainful look at Kakashi.

“As for him-”

He tilts his head at a strange angle and lets it hang there.

“Well, he would’ve gone the same way as Itachi over there, if he didn’t have the brains to kill the guy Danzo tried to trade him to. Then again, he’s always been the smart one, eh? Although I suppose even then, Minato would’ve been out for blood if he ever found out.” 

‘...And what about you?” Karin dares to ask. “What’s the point of you doing all this?”

“Right now, Uchiha Mikoto and Uchiha Fugaku are in Konona- or what’s  _ left  _ of Konoha, anyway- recruiting every clan they can manage onto their side. They’re already plotting the rebellion they should have gone through with nearly nine years ago.”

“You can’t be serious!” Sarutobi cries out.

“Why are you surprised, Hiruzen?” Danzo growls. “You know how they are.”

Tobi folds his arms.

“I’m deadly serious, Sandaime-sama. I’m sure they’ve already secured the Hyuuga clan’s loyalties, and it won’t take long for others to follow. I’d give it- oh, maybe three days before they all revolt.”

He takes on a light, playful tone, almost teasing.

“You know what’s going to happen when they revolt. It’s only a matter of time before they pull the entire world into their conflict. There’s going to be a war, and you can’t stop it. I look forward to watching what you’ll do about it.”

Tobi unfolds his arms, then claps his gloved hands.

“Well, I’ll leave you back to your skeleton digging. I’m sure I’ve given you a lot to talk about. I do hope you’ll be able to forgive me for spilling your dirty little secret, Itachi.”

“...Why even tell them in the first place?” Konan dares to ask.

“The more kindling you throw in the pit, the hotter the fire burns,” Tobi answers. “Well then-”

Chojuro lunges forward to try to stop him leaving, but passes uselessly through him.

-And then Kakashi screams.


	21. Won't be fine again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Shisui have tons of undealt-with emotional baggage, and Jiraiya is remembering things he would rather stay buried.
> 
> Also, Sakura remembers the "dispel the genjutsu by hitting the person under it" to somewhat amusing effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, two horizontal lines will indicate a flashback/dream sequence because I say so :P

* * *

“Kakashi-sensei, what’s going on?!” 

Kakashi flails around like he’s possessed, moaning and screaming like he’s being murdered.

Naruto rushes toward his teacher in a blind panic, trying to grab him from Sakura in order to shake him back to reality. Sakura, however, does not panic. She pushes Naruto away, then makes sure she has a good grip on Kakashi, despite his mad thrashing about. Her green eyes are focused, her gaze steady.

Holding him fast in one hand, she backhands him across the face.  _ Hard. _

“What the hell-”

Like magic, Kakashi’s screaming abruptly dies off. Sakura sighs in relief.

“It was just a genjutsu, Kakashi-sensei. It’s alright.”

The man groans, reaching up to rub his eye blearily.

“How long-”

“Not very.”

Kakashi snaps upright.

“Where’d Obito go?”

“Obi-who?” Naruto asks.

“That guy- he’s not Madara or Tobi or anyone else- he’s Uchiha Obito. The guy that gave me this Sharingan.”

“Wait,” Jiraiya blurts out. “Didn’t he die ages ago?”

“Yeah, I thought that too,” Kakashi mumbles.

He manages a strange sort of almost-laugh.

“Sorry if I scared you guys. It’s fine now.”

“When I  was a younger man, it was my impression that the dead are supposed to stay with the dead,” Oonoki grumps.

He is quite pointedly ignored.

In the brief lapse in the conversation, Deidara moans, and begins to stir.

“Sasori-danna,” he slurs, trying to pull himself upward. His arms give out, however, and he slumps back onto the floor.

“...Maybe we should call it for today,” Tsunade offers. “Those two will need looking at, and I think we’ve all heard enough for one day.”

“I agree,” Gaara says, with a nod. “I’m sure each of us has plenty to think over until tomorrow.”

A mumble of agreement sweeps through the room, and people start to filter out, Oonoki dragging Deidara by the scruff.  


“Sasuke! Are you alright?”

Karin swoops in to pull him into her arms; he doesn't fight it, though he looks quite unhappy about the situation.

“Deidara didn’t hurt you, did he? You’re okay?”

Sasuke murmurs something half-coherent in response.

Shisui tries to approach Itachi, while Kabuto is busy being comforted.

“Hey, I-”

“Please don’t.”

The closer Shisui tries to draw, the further Itachi draws away.

“Tachi, it’s okay-”

“No it  _ isn’t _ !”

Shisui flinches- he doesn't remember Itachi ever sounding so  _ angry. _

“That’s all I ever heard from you, Shisui! ‘It’s okay.’ ‘It’s going to be alright.’ ‘We can fix it.’ It’s  _ not  _ okay, Shisui! It was never  _ okay!  _ And I doubt it’ll ever be ‘alright’ again!”

He cradles his head in his hands, clutching fistfuls of his hair.

“Look what our trying to  _ fix  _ everything worked out, Shisui. Look where it got us.”

Itachi might as well have stabbed Shisui in the gut.

“Tachi..."

Seeing his beloved older brother in anguish is too much for Sasuke to bear. He wrenches himself from Karin’s grasp.

“Niisan-”

“Don’t!”

Perhaps more harshly than he’d meant to, Itachi shoves Sasuke away when he tries to touch him. He turns his head so he doesn't have to see the hurt in Sasuke’s eyes.

“Please just...leave me alone. It’s better that way.”

Naruto becomes alarmed when Sasuke’s eyes grow wet.

(He’s never seen Sasuke anywhere close to  _ crying  _ before.)

A jolt runs through Sasuke’s body when Orochimaru lays a hand on his shoulder.

“You poor thing. You must be exhausted.”

Sasuke shakes his head. He’s got that lost, kicked-puppy look on his face again. He leans inward the smallest fraction when Orochimaru pets his hair.

Suigetsu leans in toward Kabuto, and speaks in a hushed tone Naruto can barely hear.

“You uh- you brought his- y’know?”

“Of course I did, don’t be stupid,” Kabuto huffs. “I figured he’d be needing them if I happened to run into him again.”

“Thank fuck. He’s fucking unbearable without them, you know that?”

Kabuto rolls his eyes, but he doesn't argue.

“It seems like I’ve been forgotten about,” Orochimaru remarks,too tired to make a show of being offended. “Kakashi-kun, if you’re feeling up to it, could you escort me back to my cell? Something tells me they won’t trust Kabuto to do it.”

Kakashi complies, despite shooting the man a dirty look, and despite Kabuto’s unspoken protest.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Sakura asks him.

“I’ve had worse,” Kakashi insists. “It was just a genjutsu, after all.”

Though he says he’s alright, his legs still shake badly as he leaves the room.

Kabuto fiddles with his glasses for the sake of something to do. Shisui tries once again to approach Itachi.

“Tachi, please-”

Itachi turns his back; Shisui’s lips curl into a cold sort of smile.

“Is it weird that I know exactly the sort of face you’re making right now?”

“...Just leave me alone, Shisui.”

“...I’m tired,” Sasuke mumbles, to nobody in particular.

“Since your guys’ room got trashed, you can stay in mine,” Naruto offers.

Sasuke doesn't protest this.

As the last of them vacate the room, Naruto catches Kabuto slipping Suigetsu a bottle of something out of the corner of his eye before he disappears with Itachi in toe. 

He doesn't bother to question what it is.

 

Jiraiya glances over at Tsunade. She’s got that perfectly blank face she always wears when her mind is working frantically. He knows better than to try to talk to her when she’s got that expression, so he keeps to himself.

Outside, the snow is falling heavily, the wind howling low and the sky already growing dark.

It’s shaping up to be a long night.

 

* * *

* * *

The Land of Wind lives up to its name, the howling gusts of hot desert air threatening to knock Jiraiya off his feet as he and his teammates navigate the treacherous canyon separating the Land of Wind from the Land of Fire.

“Careful,” Orochimaru warns (probably for the thousandth time by now). “Take a wrong step, and we’ll all get buried.”

“Yeah yeah, I know that, Maru! But we gotta hurry up and get out of here- it’s getting dark and I’m starving!” Jiraiya whines.

“Bitch about your stomach one more time and I’m gonna rip it out through your nose,” Tsunade warns.

They lapse into silence, focused on navigating the narrow canyon as safely as they can. Tsunade takes the lead, while Orochimaru trails a few feet behind gold eyes dart around anxiously. Jiraiya can see the gears turning wildly in his head, but what for is anybody’s guess.

“Hey Maru, whaddaya wanna do when you get home?” Jiraiya asks, when a half hour has past, and they’re nearly safely out of danger.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“For your birthday, dumbass!”

“Eh?”

“Oh yeah! It’ll be your birthday in a few days, won’t it?” Tsunade exclaims. “We should do something special!”

Orochimaru rolls his eyes.

“I don’t need anything special,” he insists. “I’d really rather just go home and take a proper bath.”

“C’mon, don’t be boring! We should go out to that curry place you like! I’ll buy!” Tsunade offers.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be a stick in the mud,” Jiraiya scolds. “You gotta cut loose and have fun every once in awhile!”

“I have plenty of fun!”

“Holing up in the library all day isn’t fun!”

“That’s not all I-”

Suddenly, Orochimaru goes stiff. He turns around, his head snapping wildly in all directions.

Jiraiya steps toward him.

“Maru, what’s-”

“Stay back!”

The words have barely left Orochimaru’s mouth before a deafening explosion knocks them in all directions. Jiraiya sees stars when his head hits the ground, and hears Orochimaru swear loudly.

“Maru! Jiraiya! You okay?!” Tsunade cries out.

“I’m fine,’ Jiraiya answers, brushing the dust off and getting back up. “Maru?”

“- _ Fuck! _ ”

Orochimaru tries to stand up, but collapses again, clutching his middle. A thin trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth. Jiraiya lunges toward him.

“You’re hurt!”

Orochimaru’s kunai misses Jiraiya’s ear by millimeters.

“Hey, what the hell’s gotten into you?!”

A second, much larger blast sends him and Tsunade flying. A low, deafening roar begins mere moments before the landslide.

Perhaps by some divine intervention, Jiraiya and Tsunade manage not to get crushed when it seems like heaven is falling down around them.

It takes ages for the sand and the rocks to slow, and finally stop.

A wall of rock and earth taller than Jiraiya can see blocks their way backward.

“Maru!” Tsunade yells. 

“I’m alive!” Orochimaru calls back; his voice comes through muffled. “Not buried or anything, anyway!”

“Are you hurt bad?”

“-I’m not sure.”

Jiraiya vainly tries to dig through the scorching hot earth with his hands, heedless of the pain.

“There’s no use,” Orochimaru scolds. “Knock it off before you cause another landslide.”

(Of course Orochimaru knows what Jiraiya is doing. Orochimaru always knows.)

“It’s a trap,” he says, remarkably calm despite their situation. “We’ll have company before long.”

He laughs, despite everything.

“I’m sorry, guys. We walked right into it like a bunch of dumbasses.”

“So how do we get you out of there?!” Jiraiya demands.

“You don’t,” Orochimaru answers.

“We can’t just leave you here!” Tsunade cries out, indignant, searching desperately for some way around the tons of earth.

“You’re wasting time!” Orochimaru berates the both of them. “Go  _ home _ !”

“But what about-”

“I’ll be fine. Come back and find me later- right now I want you to worry about yourselves.”

“-A real martyr, arencha?”

Jiraiya’s breath is stolen from him.

_ Already-? _

“Well, isn’t it our lucky day? We caught the Hokage’s little attack dog. That’s a one in a million find.”

“He’s real cute, ain’t he?” another voice remarks. “Such a waste on a shithole like Konoha.”

“He’s ours now, so who cares?” a third voice sneers. “Hey, Konoha brat- let’s see how long you can keep that calm face up.”

“Are you even sure it’s a he? Such a pretty little thing.”

“Doesn't really matter. They all scream the same, anyway.”

“Orochimaru!” 

Jiraiya beats his fists impotently against the barrier separating him and his friend.

“I said go!”

(Those are the last words He’ll hear Orochimaru speak for a month.)

“Jiraiya,” Tsunade urges, defeat etched into every inch of her being, tears cutting twin paths through the dirt and grime on her face. “There’s nothing we can do.”

He hears Orochimaru make a strange sound. A small, strangled, frightened sound, barely audible through the barrier. A sound he’s never heard from his friend before.

A fire ignites inside Jiraiya, anger surging in his throat.

“We’ll come back!” he declares, even though his voice cracks several times as he does. “Hang in there, Maru- we’ll find you!” 

He gets no acknowledgement, other than mirthless laughter from the Suna shinobi.

Tsunade grabs him by the wrist, and they run full-tilt toward home.

A journey that normally takes three days only takes them one.

 

* * *

* * *

Jiraiya jolts awake in a cold sweat, his heart throwing itself against his sternum. It takes him a couple shaky breaths and a few seconds for him to realize he was only dreaming.

He rolls over and sits up with a huff.

The clock in the tiny hotel room tells him it’s a bit past two in the morning.

(It’s odd that he remembers that day so vividly- it’s been almost forty years, after all. And odder still, that he should be dreaming of it now.)

Tsunade is on the futon on the opposite side of the room, her back turned to him.

“You awake too?” She asks.

Jiraiya nods, then remembers she can’t see him right now.

“Of course I am.”

Tsunade rolls over, propping herself up on her elbow.

“That meeting...coulda gone better,” she mutters.

Jiraiya lets his head roll back, rubbing his sore eyes.

“You’re telling me. What the actual hell.”

Tsunade starts gnawing on her thumbnail.

“So...What Orochimaru said happened...I suppose he’s not lying.”

“If he was, then Sarutobi-sensei would’ve denied it up and down,” Jiraiya insists. “You know how he is.”

He scratches his head and sighs.

“I wish we’d known-”

“-How could we have?!” Tsunade snaps. “Orochimaru never told us anything!”

Jiraiya grumbles.

“I wish I..."

He trails off, because he isn’t sure  _ what  _ he wishes. 

“...I’m gonna talk to him.”

“Sensei?”

“Orochimaru.”

“What for?”

“I just- feel like I need to do it. Maybe you should come too.”

Tsunade huffs, then rolls back over, pulling her blanket tightly around herself.

“If you wanna see him so bad, you can do it alone. He’s the  _ last  _ person I wanna see right now.”

“Alright then-”

Jiraiya stands up, throwing his sandals on and shrugging a coat over his shoulders.

“I won’t force ya, Tsunade. But I’m gonna go on ahead.”

“Knock yourself out, idiot.”

The air outside is so cold it immediately makes Jiraiya’s nose go numb. 

(At least part of his outsides matches the numbness inside him.)

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support, you guys! I haven't forgotten or abandoned my other fics, but this one is the only one my brain has any ideas for at the moment :(


	22. Close the Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut. Filthy, filthy smut.
> 
> This chapter is where the plot takes a break to have shameless JiraOro porn. You have been warned :P

Iron’s usual thick blanket of clouds blocks out the moon and stars, casting the entire village in a nearly impenetrable darkness.

The claustrophobic feeling is bringing back memories he’s really,  _ really  _ rather not be remembering right now. Memories of him and Tsunade in some god-forsaken corner of the Land of Wind, in an underground prison that smelled like blood and rust and rotting meat. Of concrete rooms full of corpses, viscera squishing under their sandals when they walk.

He feels trapped now, the same way he’d felt trapped when-

 

* * *

* * *

“This one’s from Konoha!” Jiraiya calls to her, spotting the headband resting by the broken mess of blood and bone he assumes is the unfortunate bastard’s hand.

“-He’s still breathing!” Tsunade proclaims, a little breathless. 

“He-”

That twisted mess that was once a hand does its best impression of grabbing at his pant leg.

-Through the thick layer of blood and grime and whatever filth, behind the matted, knotted hair, Jiraiya sees a pair of slit-pupiled, gold eyes that are far too familiar.

He nearly succumbs to the urge to vomit.

“M-Maru-?!”

“...You found me,” Orochimaru rasps out, his voice weak- Jiraiya notices that four of his teeth are missing.

He tries to laugh, but it warps into a harsh, wet coughing fit that brings up blood and infection.

“Such grim faces- I thought you’d be happy to see me…”

Initially stunned by the horrid sight before her, Tsunade is finally able to get her body to obey her mind.

“He’s got a bad fever,” she informs Jiraiya while she looks him over. “And a broken pretty much everything. And a concussion, probably.”

“-They’re a bit rough on Konoha nin,” Orochimaru chortles, before succumbing to another coughing fit.

“And a collapsed lung,” Tsunade adds on.

“Well- well, what do we do?” Jiraiya stammers.

“I can heal him up enough to survive the trip back home, but I can’t even touch some of these til we get the infection treated.”

Jiraiya paces around frantically, making sure that everyone else in the prison is, indeed, dead (or at least dying). His heart makes its best attempt to break free, thoughts of anger and revenge running through his mind.

How  _ dare  _ they?! How dare they hurt  _ Orochimaru?!  _ How  _ dare  _ they leave his friend to rot in this hellhole, to succumb to his injuries half-naked and all alone?! Orochimaru, who is always so composed, so beautiful and refined- his friend-  _ his- _

“We need to go,” Tsunade mumbles, her face a strange, ashen color. “Carry him, will you?”

“...Yeah,” Jiraiya replies, doing as she’d asked, tucking his anger into the back of his mind for another day.

_ I’ll get them back,  _ Jiraiya growls within his mind, hoping, somehow, that Orochimaru will hear it.  _ I’ll make this whole damn country pay for what they’ve done to you. _

He gets to hear Orochimaru’s agonized wheezing in his ear the entire two-day journey home.

 

* * *

* * *

-Wasting time recalling such unpleasant things probably isn’t good for Jiraiya’s mental health.

Jiraiya finds Orochimaru seated on the cold floor, a threadbare blanket draped over his shoulders, brushing out his hair.

Gold eyes turn toward Jiraiya, but he doesn't acknowledge him otherwise, and doesn't stop his task.

Jiraiya clears his throat, and looks around for something to rest his eyes on besides his former teammate. All he finds in the bare, concrete cell is a tray bearing a meal which Orochimaru hasn’t touched.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks. “I mean- it’s been a few days, hasn’t it?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Like hell it isn’t!”

A sudden surge of anger rises up in Jiraiya’s throat. He strikes his fist against the wall; Orochimaru startles, freezing his brushing mid-stroke.

“I fucking  _ hated  _ when you did this shit growing up, you know that? ‘It’s not your concern.’ ‘I can handle it on my own.’ No matter how obvious is was that you  _ couldn’t.  _ Why do you always shut everyone out like we don’t matter?! Why are you so fucking heart-set on being alone?!”

Jiraiya grits out the last few words through clenched teeth. Emotions he’d hidden for too long continue bubbling to the surface, like a pan of water that’s finally coming to a boil.

“If something’s wrong it’s not shameful to just come out and say it! It isn’t some sort of burden on me to listen to it- aren’t friends supposed to do that for each other?!”

He can’t bear to look Orochimaru in the eye, so he instead focuses on the wrinkle in his forehead where his brow knits in confusion.

-Then, Orochimaru does something he didn’t expect.

He smiles.

It’s the smile Jiraiya remembers from their youth- that warm, lopsided smile that bares one of his unusually sharp teeth. That smile that became increasingly rare the older they got. It doesn't take the exhaustion away from Orochimaru’s face, but at least it brings some life back into his eyes. The rare, genuine expression stirs up old feelings from the bottom of Jiraiya’s heart.

“Sentimental as ever, old friend,” Orochimaru half-laughs.

He lets his head fall to the side. Dark hair falls aside with it, bearing the white flesh of his neck; Jiraiya finds himself fascinated with the arch of delicate collarbone brought into relief just above the collar of the rough prison shirt that really doesn't suit Orochimaru at all.

Jiraiya suddenly finds his mouth drier than a Suna well in the middle of summer, overcome with the desire to run his fingers across the fragile bone just beneath the thin layer of skin.

A lilting laugh rises up from Orochimaru’s throat.

“Something the matter?” he asks, teasing.

“I uh-”

Jiraiya swallows thickly. In truth, he isn’t sure.

Orochimaru casts the hairbrush aside, lets the blanket around his shoulders fall to the side, and rises to his feet. In two strides, he’s closed the distance between them.

“What are you-”

“Shh. don’t ask questions, alright?”

Jiraiya feels frozen, trapped in place when Orochimaru wraps his arms around him, laying his head against the taller man’s chest.

Orochimaru shivers; Jiraiya wonders if it’s just because he’s cold.

(He’d always hated the cold, after all. Jiraiya sometimes wondered if he was actually a reptile when they were young.)

Hands wander up Jiraiya’s back like they’re searching for something. They tense up when Jiraiya tries to pull away, fingernails digging into fabric and flesh.

“Stay…”

Despite the protests gnawing at the back of his mind, Jiraiya obeys. 

Orochimaru’s fingers raise goosebumps on his arms when they ghost over the back of his neck, before working their way into coarse white hair. He buries his face in the crook of Jiraiya’s neck, letting out a sound Jiraiya has never heard from him before. A needy sound, almost a whine.

“Hey, what are you-”

-I told you not to ask questions.”

There’s the barest hint of Orochimaru’s teeth and tongue against the tender flesh of his neck- Jiraiya jolts, and shoves the other man away. Orochimaru looks at him like he’s been wounded.

“What the  _ fuck?! _ ” Jiraiya demands.

“Oh? Are you not interested? I thought, since you’ve always been looking at me, maybe-”

“You’re a guy! It’s fucking weird!” Jiraiya insists, face red-hot with what he hopes is embarrassment. 

“I’ve never really concerned myself with such petty details,” Orochimaru muses, reaching for Jiraiya once again.

Jiraiya knows he could leave. That he probably  _ should  _ leave. That this is all sorts of weird and wrong. But, for whatever reason, he can’t bring himself to move.

There’s a strange look on Orochimaru’s face. A hunger in his eyes that makes Jiraiya uneasy. An eagerness in his hands that causes heat to bubble up in his gut.

Orochimaru’s fangs graze against his neck, drawing out a startled gasp. Lips that are softer than he expected press themselves over the shallow scratches.

“Knock it off-” Jiraiya groans, though even as he says this, his hands grab his former teammate’s narrow hips and pull him closer.

“Why should I?” 

Jiraiya can feel the cheeky smirk on Orochimaru’s face as he says it.

Jiraiya can think of a thousand reasons. Because they could get caught. Because they’re teammates. Because Orochimaru is acting so  _ strange,  _ there has to be something wrong with him-

Because Jiraiya isn’t into  _ men,  _ goddamnit. 

Orochimaru chuckles against his neck as if he’s read his mind.

“You think I don’t know you?” he asks. “You think I never noticed the way you looked at me?”

“I- what?”

Orochimaru trails his tongue along Jiraiya’s jugular, eliciting a strangled sound.

“I know you’ve wanted me,” he purrs against Jiraiya’s ear. “So I’ll let you have me.”

“I don’t-”

“-You’ve always been a bad liar.”

Orochimaru tugs Jiraiya with him, his back hitting the cold wall. His breathing is heavy and uneven, face flushed, his eyes pleading.

Jiraiya’s heart skips several beats when he realizes what the tight feeling in his pants is.

His lips are millimeters from Orochimaru’s. Their breath mingles together, warm and utterly frustrating.

(Damn it, he shouldn’t  _ want  _ this. But it’s so tempting, so damn  _ good  _ to have eyes full of hungry desire turned on him, no matter whose they are.)

“Jiraiya,” Orochimaru moans, low and sweet and crooning.

And that- that’s the final straw.

As though his body is moving on its own, Jiraiya crashes their lips together. Orochimaru slides down the wall and onto the floor, dragging Jiraiya with him.

Jiraiya would have thought (if he’d thought about Orochimaru in  _ that  _ sort of way, which he didn’t, not at all, not one little bit) that Orochimaru’s tongue would be off-putting when he kissed. But when he’s so heated and desperate like this-

Well. He’s read (and written) about sticking your tongue down someone’s throat a hundred times, but Orochimaru seems intent on giving it a new, all-too-literal meaning. Orochimaru practically tears Jiraiya’s coat of in his haste to be rid of it, sliding cold hands up the front of Jiraiya’s shirt. 

Jiraiya swears under his breath when Orochimaru grinds their hips together, the friction sending sparks flying in his belly.

(His eyes keep wandering to the bruises lining Orochimaru’s arms. They look so damn  _ good  _ against his snow-white skin- 

He wants to bruise it up more.)

His experience with other men is limited to a night in a bordello thirty years ago that he’d never admit to in a million years. But, being one himself, he has, at the very least, a general idea of what he should do.

Gingerly, he slips a hand down the front of Orochimaru’s pants. The man hisses like the snakes he’s oh-so fond of, arching eagerly into his touch.

Though the cell is positively frigid, Jiraiya feels far too warm. His chest heaving with great, labored breaths, he briefly breaks contact to shed his shirt. Orochimaru drinks in the view like he wants to devour the other man.

“What do I uh-  _ how  _ do I-”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Orochimaru offers up a little vial full of some clear fluid. Jiraiya can’t help the snort that escapes him.

“You planned for this?”

“ _ A shinobi must be prepared for any eventuality if he wishes to achieve his desired outcome, _ ” he quotes from that oh-so-flawless memory of his. “Ninja guideline fifteen.”

“Nerd,” Jiraiya faux-teases.

Orochimaru merely smiles, disentangling himself from Jiraiya just enough to get his clothes off.

Damn. Jiraiya had all but forgotten just how small and  _ fragile  _ his fallen comrade truly is. Small, but wiry with muscle from their lifetime of meticulous training.

With a devious glint in his eyes, Orochimaru pops open the little bottle.

“Like this,” he says matter-of-factly, slicking up his fingers. Wide-eyed, Jiraiya watches two of them sink inside him.

Orochimaru is making such desperate sounds, clinging to Jiraiya while he fucks himself with his own hand. He leaves a sloppy trail of kisses up his neck, whispers lewd things against the shell of his ear. Grinds himself against Jiraiya and chants his name like a mantra.

Absolutely shameless. Whorish, obscene,  _ wonderful. _

He only half-registers when Orochimaru oils up his own hand, and guides it down between his open legs.

“Is this- are you-”

Orochimaru cuts him off with another sloppy kiss. Jiraiya takes that as consent.

His fingers slip in easily, drawing out a pleasant moan from the other man. Orochimaru hooks a leg around his waist, urging him on.

Jiraiya rolls his wrist carefully once, twice, three times, watching intently for the response he gets. He’s rewarded with more of those needy, breathless whispers.

Orochimaru is...so warm and slick and tight inside. It’s almost maddening, and those  _ sounds  _ he’s making are doing things to him he’s not felt in ages.

He shifts the angle ever so slightly, and is met with Orochimaru  _ groaning  _ and tightening around him without any warning. He’s worried he might have done something wrong, until Orochimaru pulls him in closer still.

“More,” he demands, impetuously. 

Jiraiya repeats the motion, eliciting a series of throaty, almost inhuman sounds.

Unable to wait any longer, Jiraiya pulls his fingers out; Orochimaru whimpers rather childishly at the loss of contact.

Jiraiya undoes his pants in a hurry, pouring out still more lubricant. He gives himself a few good strokes, then hooks his hands under Orochimaru’s thighs to lift them up.

“Slow down-”

-Jiraiya doesn't listen.

The heat that engulfs him is so painfully _ tight  _ that it wipes his mind clean.

Orochimaru lets out a keening whine of pain, nails biting into Jiraiya’s shoulders.  But when Jiraiya tries to pull away, Orochimaru holds him fast.

“Stay,” he says, once more, through labored, reedy breaths.

It takes all of Jiraiya’s willpower to keep himself still; his hips tremble with the effort to resist the velvet heat wrapped around him. But he manages to keep himself together, until Orochimaru’s whines lose their pained note, and Orochimaru’s heel digging into his back urges him to move.

He doesn't bother with gentle- he doesn't have the willpower in him, and he’s sure Orochimaru doesn't object, judging by his persistent cries of  _ More, harder, don’t stop-  _ god, no wonder half the village had slept with him when they were younger.

A yowl of pleasure-pain tears from his throat when Orochimaru sinks his fangs deep into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He sucks at the wound like a starving vampire, drawing out noises Jiraiya is sure he’s never made before. Orochimaru looks so  _ good  _ like this, flushed and needy and fucked absolutely silly, begging- no,  _ demanding  _ more. It’s been ages since Jiraiya’s been with anyone who’s wanted him so badly.

He’s not sure which of them succumbs first. 

Orochimaru licks the sweat off his throat while he catches his breath, practically purring in satisfaction. He grabs Jiraiya’s wrists when he tries to pull away.

“Stay,” he says, for the third time tonight.

Strength drained, Jiraiya doesn't even have it in him to argue.

There’s only the one blanket between the two of them, and only the concrete floor to lay on. But as he lay there with Orochimaru’s head resting on his chest, Jiraiya doesn't feel cold.

This is every sort of wrong. Jiraiya is keenly aware of that. He knows that if ( _ when,  _ more like) anyone finds out, it’s gonna spark a whole other clusterfuck he’d rather not have to un-fuck.

“Don’t tell me you regret it,” Orochimaru giggles.

Jiraiya refuses to answer.


	23. Running Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't put Suigetsu in charge of Sasuke's medications. Also, Jiraiya continues remembering stuff, and Kabuto is a petty bitch.

It’s always taken Jiraiya a few moments to fully come around to reality when he wakes up- just one of those things that Orochimaru would tease him about when it was his turn to take watch on long, lonely nights away from the village.

Orochimaru-

He barely stifles a yelp when he realizes it’s not some pretty woman he’d picked up at a bar tucked nicely into his arms.

Orochimaru is still asleep, if only barely. Little twitches and tremors run through his thin body, small frightened sounds spilling out of his mouth- so similar to that _sound_ he’d made that day when-

-Why does his brain keep going back there?

“Shh. It’s okay,” he mumbles, even if the words are useless. Feeling stupid and useless (so, the usual), he pets Orochimaru’s hair, rubs circles on his back. Murmurs more stupid things that Orochimaru can’t hear because _he’s asleep you idiot, why bother?_

It’s not enough. He’s still _shaking._

(It’s never enough. Jiraiya can never do enough, never _be_ enough. He’s known that his whole damn life.)

Has Orochimaru always been so small?

Of course, that might just be his memory playing tricks on him. Memory was such a finicky thing, after all.

* * *

* * *

Poison. Of fucking course Orochimaru would poison him. Why Jiraiya hadn’t seen that one coming a mile away, he’ll never know.

_Can’t move…_

“Don’t worry, Jiraiya. It’s only a paralytic- give it about a half hour. It won’t do you any lasting harm.”

Cold comfort.

Orochimaru seems to tower over him. Despite Jiraiya’s best efforts, he can’t summon the strength to pull himself upright to even face him properly.

“You can’t stop me,” Orochimaru informs him, his voice as cold as the forest floor his teammate is sprawled upon.

Jiraiya’s vision goes blurry- to his own humiliation, he’s begun to cry.

“-What did I do wrong?” he chokes. Orochimaru stiffens.

“What did I do wrong, Orochimaru? Whatever I did I’m sorry-”

A laugh. A joyless, icy laugh that spreads its chill through Jiraiya’s blood.

“That sentimentality of yours will be the death of you.”

Despite the tears blurring his vision, Jiraiya can see Orochimaru tug off his forehead protector. He crouches down and lays it on the ground. He cradles Jiraiya’s face like he’s something precious, brushing away the tears that spill over.

“I won’t be sentimental anymore, old friend.”

Jiraiya screams the other man’s name until the syllables mean nothing. Until long after his friend has abandoned him.

(It isn’t til later that he wonders why he swears that _I won’t_ sounded more like an _I can’t.)_

* * *

* * *

Some time during Jiraiya’s musings, Orochimaru had awoken. Jiraiya sighs in relief at not having to hear those noises of his anymore.

There’s no _Good Morning_ s or sweet kisses that lovers share. No comfortable bed with the warm covers like Orochimaru deserves. Just a ragged, moth-eaten blanket and the cold concrete floor of a dingy jail cell.

When Jiraiya opens his mouth to speak, Orochimaru presses a finger to his lips.

(He’s absolutely covered in bruises. Had Jiraiya done that?)

The pair of them dress in silence, and Jiraiya leaves without a goodbye.

 _What the fuck just happened?_ Is his one thought as he departs, pointedly ignoring the strange looks he receives from the prison guards.

“Where have you _been_?” Tsunade demands, the moment she spots him.

 

* * *

 

Itachi follows quietly behind Kabuto as they descend into an underground labyrinth, torches lighting up out of nowhere as they walk past. They arrive in a room full of rows upon rows of books and scrolls, all sorts of medical-type sketches strewn about a handful of tables.

Kabuto frantically starts pulling the books and scrolls off the shelves, stacking them precariously onto blank scrolls he’s unrolled onto the pristine floor.

“You could help me seal these up instead of standing there,” he huffs, when he catches Itachi motionless.

As if snapping out of a trance, Itachi begins gathering up things as well, taking brief pauses to glance over anything that looks interesting. He goes through the familiar hand signs to seal up the trove of knowledge before he’s practically dragged into the next room.

The next room is laden with all manner of shinobi gear, arranged and organized with military precision. Again, they clear out the entire room, stashing the scrolls before leaving.

“What exactly is the point of this?” Itachi finally thinks to ask, in the third room filled with medical supplies.

“I don’t know what the old badger knows, or what he might have his lackies set to do if shit goes south,” Kabuto quips. “I don’t want to be unprepared if he knows where Orochimaru-sama’s bases are. I don’t have time to clear each of them out, but at least this way we won’t be entirely unprepared.”

“And the others?”

“There’s only one other base Orochimaru-sama can’t afford to lose- and even Shimura won’t be able to get at _that_ one.”

Itachi hums his understanding.

“And why do you feel the need to drag _me_ along?” he asks.

“Because I like annoying you,” Kabuto replies, with a smile.

“It hardly seems necessary.”

“You’re one to talk about unnecessary things, Itachi.”

That’s enough to cause the Uchiha to lapse into silence.

They grab clothes and a few other sundry items from the other rooms, but don’t bother clearing them out as thoroughly as the others. Kabuto _does_ stop to grab the dozen or so tins of tea sitting in a cupboard in the cramped kitchen. The twinge of longing on Itachi’s face doesn't go unnoticed.

“Corpses don’t drink tea,” Kabuto teases.

“...I’m aware of that.”

Kabuto can’t suppress a sneer. Itachi rather pointedly ignores it.

“We should get back then. Before Sasuke wonders where you’ve gone.”

As if you care about him.”

“Tch- as if you have any clue about what I feel. If you recall, _I_ was the one who helped look after him for years after _you_ ran away.”

“I was protecting him.”

“You abandoned him!”

Kabuto has his hands around Itachi’s neck, even though this can’t kill someone who’s already dead, and he’s not even sure where this sudden surge of rage has swelled up from.

Sickening crunching noises fill the air- Kabuto desperately wishes Itachi could still feel pain. Surely getting one’s throat crushed at least stings a little.

Itachi doesn't waver from his stoic demeanor. Finally, Kabuto releases his grip, and Itachi’s crushed windpipe heals itself.

“You don’t even _know_ what you threw away,” he hisses, baring his teeth.

“Please don’t speak as though you know me.”

Coolly polite as ever, Itachi rights himself and dusts himself off. Growling, Kabuto calls up the giant stone coffin that takes the Uchiha out of his sight.

(Maybe making him come along was a bad idea.)

“Fuck you.” he spits at nothing, vision tinged red with fury.

A few deep breaths to collect himself. Then, Kabuto decides he’d best leave. He doesn't want to miss anything fun, after all.

 

* * *

 

“Deidara is alive.”

Konan doesn't receive an answer, and Kisame keeps his back stubbornly turned.

Kisame is not a weak man. Every part of his body screams strength and ferocity and the promise of something bloody. Yet somehow, some way, he looks helpless, and almost _small_ sitting in this lonely jail cell, watched by a small army of samurai like he was some exotic fish on display.

“You turned yourself in,” the woman presses on, stubbornly. “Why?”

The silence is so overwhelming that she can hear the man’s teeth grind together.

“It’s all a lie, so what’s the point?” Kisame finally relents.

(He sounds so defeated. It’s breaking Konan’s heart.)

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said,” Kisame huffs. “I’m not like Itachi- bullshitting around isn’t my thing.”

Konan sighs, eyes darting over at the samurai who are watching them intently.

“...Have they hurt you at all?” she inquires.

“No one’s even looked at me since I got in here- don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“Worrying is in my nature.”

Konan almost smiles as she says this.

Kisame still doesn't look at her.

“...He lied to me.” He speaks the words like they taste awful.

“He lied to all of us.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.”

Konan bites her lower lip.

“I’m not happy about it either. But Itachi had his reasons for doing what he did.”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

Konan bows her head. One of the samurai gestures that she needs to leave.

“Please stay safe,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Her fingertips linger on the cell door for a few precious heartbeats. Kisame finally, _finally,_ looks at her.

“So you’re okay with what he did?” he demands. Though Konan has her head turned, he knows she’s frowning.

“No,” she answers, flatly. “But I forgive him.”

“Why?”

A flinch makes the woman’s entire body contract. When she speaks, sadness colors her voice gray.

“...Nagato would have forgiven him.”

The door is locked, and Konan escorted away, before Kisame can ask who the hell Nagato is.

 

* * *

 

“How much did you give him, Suigetsu?!”

“Eh?! Just what he’s supposed to get- two of the green ones, one of the blue ones and half of a yellow one-”

“You dipshit! He gets two blue ones, a yellow one, and _half_ a green one!” Karin rubs her temples in agitation.

“Well what difference does it make?!”

“It’s a _sedative,_ Suigetsu! And you gave him enough to knock out a fucking horse!”

The two of them continue to bicker, creating a tense atmosphere in the overcrowded hotel room. Yamato and Naruto both fidget uncomfortably, while Sakura stealthily checks to make sure Sasuke is still breathing properly.

He’s alright, from what she can tell. But very decidedly out cold. His head rests in her lap, where it’s been since about ten minutes after Suigetsu had practically forced the medication down Sasuke’s throat.

She’s debating how angry she should be. After all- Sasuke is sleeping so peacefully. She wonders how long it’s been since he’s had a good rest.

Sakura dares to lean forward and kiss Sasuke’s forehead.

(He looks so much calmer like this. All that anger is smoothed away, that constant furrow in his brow relaxed. Sasuke deserves to be peaceful like this.)

Juugo returns from wherever he’s been, and finds himself a spot to sit down as well, beside a stubbornly quiet Shisui.

“That lady is trying to get a meeting with the Sandaime Hokage in private.”

A few heads turn toward him.

“Eh? Granny Tsunade?”

Juugo nods.

“She seems angry. But sad too. I wonder what she’s thinking.”

Sakura can’t help the smile that crosses her face.

“Tsunade-sama is a good person. I’m sure, whatever she’s planning, it’s gonna work out for the best.”

“Yeah, whatever she planned worked out real well when Akatsuki attacked your village,” Karin snipes.

Sakura bristles, but bites back a retort.

“...Is Pervy Sage gonna go with her?” Naruto asks.

Juugo shrugs his massive shoulders.

“I would assume.”

“What about Samehada? What’ve they done with it?” Suigetsu demands.

Juugo shrugs again.

“So,” Shisui grumbles. “We’re back to sitting around.”

“I’m not letting any of you go anywhere,” Yamato confirms. “Not until it’s safe.”

“We’re ninja _dattebayo_!” Naruto protests. “We don’t  need looking after!”

“Doesn't matter to me. Half of you are wanted criminals, and one of you is blind. You’re staying put.”

Naruto pouts, but sees that arguing is pointless.

Karin glances over at Shisui; he seems lost in thought. She can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty head of his.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are the best, okay? I appreciate each and every one of you. :D


	24. Sharpen your teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are gearing up for war. Tsume is gay as fuck and Deidara doesn't like that Sasuke is still alive.

The harsh fluorescent lights above pierce Deidara’s eyelids like a million tiny needles. He curses under his breath and tries to roll over, but finds himself bound firmly to the rather uncomfortable bed he’s lying on.

He jolts upward, but again meets the resistance of the restraints. He thrashes impotently, until the pounding in his head is too great to bear, and he lets himself fall back onto the mattress.

“Deidara-nii-”

Deidara turns his head away from Kurotsuchi’s voice, staring at the blank white wall on the other side of the room.

The creaking of the cheap wooden chair she must be sitting on grates against his ear.

“...That guy had you in a genjutsu,” Kurotsuchi explains, trying to be calm. “Grandpa told us when you were brought in.”

Deidara groans.

“Fucking Sharingan,” he grumbles. “Fucking Uchiha bastard.”

Kurotsuchi sighs.

“Aka is asleep, but he’ll be so happy to see you’re okay-”

“-Could you shut your damn mouth for a minute  _ hn _ ?”

Kurotsuchi falls silent.

Deidara screws his eyes shut, cursing all his rotten luck.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, damn it! His last work of art, his masterpiece- it’s all worthless now! And he doesn't even get the satisfaction of knowing fucking  _ Sasuke  _ died in that explosion! Meaningless,  _ meaningless!  _ He might die all over again from sheer humiliation!

And Tobi-

What the actual  _ hell  _ is wrong with Tobi?!

That voice, those strange mannerisms, that  _ Sharingan-  _ he doesn't understand what’s happened to his replacement partner. Tobi doesn't speak to him like that, Tobi doesn't act like that, Tobi doesn't  _ treat  _ him like that- what happened to the adoring, dimwitted jackass he’d been handed after Sasori died?

(He’d actually  _ liked  _ when Tobi would call him Senpai. But it just sounded so...so  _ wrong  _ coming from that voice that’s suddenly an entire octave deeper.)

_ Tobi hoists him into the air by his neck, that one eye with its damn Sharingan narrow, looking at him in distaste. _

_ “You never did know when to shut your mouth,” he growls, heedless of Deidara struggling to break free. _

**_Can’t breathe-_ **

_ The world starts spinning- he might throw up- _

He’d seen Sasori in the genjutsu. Mocking him, staying  _ just  _ out of his reach no matter how desperately Deidara tried. Saying hurtful, spiteful words that run through his veins like a poison. Hurtful,  _ hateful,  _ but still as flawless and beautiful as Deidara remembers; his heart aches with longing at the memories, however fucked-up that might be.

“Deidara-nii.”

Kurotsuchi puts a hand beside his, and he can feel her frown boring into the back of his skull. He flinches like he expects to be yelled at.

“...I’m not gonna get mad at you- Grandpa’s already planning on giving you an earful when he comes back.”

Deidara finds himself struggling to swallow around the rock that’s suddenly lodged itself in his throat.

(Damn it, if he starts to cry he’s gonna hate himself.)

“Nii-”

He winces when she touches his head, like her hand is a branding iron.

“I...I heard what happened to you. Back then, with the-”

Kurotsuchi’s voice cracks.

“-Deidara, I’m so sorry..."

Deidara’s entire body seizes up.

(Nobody was supposed to know. Not the old man, not anyone.)

Great. Now those memories he’d managed to keep buried are clawing their way back to the surface.

He wants to pull the sheet up over his head, but he can barely move his arms as-is.

Helpless. He feels so  _ helpless.  _ Like he’d felt back then-

-Like he’d felt when Tobi had him by the throat, without any compassion or care for him at all.

He can’t fight back the tears any longer.

 

* * *

“You smell like a brothel.”

Jiraiya shrugs.

“Of all the times for you to run off and fool around- now?! Don’t you have any shame?!”

Jiraiya decides it’s best not to respond. He hides in the bathroom for longer than he needs to, under the guise of cleaning himself up. He spends a good bit of time examining his neck in the mirror.

Two deep puncture wounds mark the center of the massive, dark red hickey Orochimaru had given him. And, of course, he’d left it in a place he couldn’t easily hide. Because why would Orochimaru ever make things easy on him?

Still…

Remembering how desperate he’d been- how it felt as though Orochimaru had been trying to suck his soul out through his neck- how he’d  _ moaned  _ and begged and been so wonderfully  _ warm- _

God.

(Bad Jiraiya. No getting a boner fantasizing about your teammate.)

He makes himself presentable, and finally emerges.

Neither he or Tsunade speak while they have their coffee, each apparently lost in their own thoughts.

Fifteen minutes pass like this. Then, Tsunade finally breaks the silence.

“We’re going to speak with Sarutobi-sensei today.”

“Huh?”

“You and I are going to the prison to talk to Sarutobi-sensei in private. I’ve already arranged it.”

“What about the-”

“-The other Kage have informed me that my presence will not be required until the Summit’s conclusion.”

She sounds as bitter as the cheap, shitty coffee they’re drinking.

“Well then- should we, uh-”

“-Yeah, let’s go.”

 

“We’re here to see the Sandaime.”

“Of course. If you two could follow me-”

A rather young and rather jumpy samurai leads them to the center of the prison where the meeting room is located.

As Jiraiya’s awful luck would have it, they pass by Orochimaru, who is once again shackled up, being led in the opposite direction. Everyone pauses.

“Good morning,” he chirps, with an uncharacteristically bright smile.

Tsunade scowls.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“The Rice Daimyo wants to meet with me, it seems. Isn’t that a reason to be pleased?”

Her scowl deepens.

“So distrustful, Tsunade. I’m hurt.”

Amber eyes sweep over Orochimaru, taking in the deep bruises decorating his skin. That scowl turns into something scary.

“Jiraiya.”

Tsunade grabs his collar, twisting it into a vice grip.

“H-hey! What’d I do?!”

“Are you fucking serious, Jiraiya?!” she growls, through clenched teeth.

“Well, I don’t know anybody named Serious, but I can definitely tell you he’s been fucking  _ someone _ ~” Orochimaru giggles, in a sing-song tone.

The samurai escorts exchange scandalized glances. Jiraiya wonders if it’s possible to die from embarrassment.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep the Daimyo waiting.”

When he passes by, Orochimaru plants a quick kiss on Jiraiya and Tsunade’s cheek in turn.

“I’ll be seeing you~”

Jiraiya assumes his face must be the same brilliant shade of scarlet as Tsunade’s.

She clamps her hand over his mouth when he tries to speak.

“Not. A word.” 

He nods his understanding. He doesn't dare challenge her when she’s in this sort of mood; besides, his energy is better spent trying to calm the rush of excitement in his lower body elicited by all those deliciously dark bruises on Orochimaru’s pretty porcelain skin.

(Fuck. Fuck. What is that man  _ doing  _ to him?)

Their samurai escort clears his throat.

“Well then, we should, uh-”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re coming.”

 

* * *

“You look awful.”

Gai’s heavy brow knits in concern, nudging Kakashi to break him out of his trance. Kakashi sighs, sending a cloud of icy air rising upward.

(He must look as exhausted as he feels.)

“Well, it’s not every day you find out the guy you thought’s been dead for nearly twenty years never actually died in the first place. I’m gonna need a bit to process that.”

Gai hums in sympathy, unsure of what to say. He joins Kakashi in leaning against the bare oak tree which has been Kakashi’s sole companion for the night.

“You eaten?”

“I’m not particularly hungry.”

“Okay then.”

Awkward silence. Always fun.

“Deidara alright?” Kakashi asks, after awhile.

“I guess so. Last I heard, he’s woken up at least.”

“What about the kids?” 

“Yamato-san is with them.”

“The Kage?”

“Well, they basically kicked Tsunade-sama out for the rest of the summit, so it isn’t looking good.”

Kakashi groans.

“Just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?”

Gai scratches the back of his head.

“I suppose this is a bad time to talk about the Uchiha.”

“Oh god, what are they doing?”

“They’ve already got the Hyuuga and Inuzuka clans declaring their alliance, and they’re probably working on the others. Obito wasn’t kidding when he said three days. It’s moving fast.”

Kakashi pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Goodie.”

A frown tugs at the corners of Gai’s mouth.

“What’re ya gonna do when shit really hits the fan?” he asks, shifting from one foot to another. “I mean- who’re you gonna side with?”

Kakashi slumps forward- in truth, he can’t be sure himself.

Konoha. He’s been taught from the day he was born that Konoha comes first. All his loyalties, all his strength, every single thing he is belongs to the village. He’s taken a solemn oath to protect that village with his own life. But what about when that village he’s sworn to protect is based on lies? What about when the village’s enemies had never intended to be enemies at all?

What then?

_ “You’re not Uchiha, but you have the Sharingan. So...which side are you on?” _

He remembers Itachi asking that, though he doesn't remember what prompted such a question. It’s only now, knowing about the Uchiha’s plans, that he finally realizes why Itachi had asked.

The poor kid had come to him for help, and tried to feel out whether he could trust Kakashi. And Kakashi let him down. He can add that one to his growing list of failures.

“Well, what about you, Gai? You have any bright ideas?”

“I’m going to wait and see what my students say,” the man answers, without reservation. “I trust their judgement, and I’ll be there to help them no matter which path they take.”

“Heh. I wish I had your confidence.”

They don’t speak any more after that, but Kakashi enjoys knowing that he’s not alone.

 

* * *

“Damn. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Miko.”

Inuzuka Tsume grins at Mikoto when she emerges dressed in a borrowed chuunin uniform.

“I knew Hana’s old clothes would fit you. Ya look good.”

Mikoto offers a small smile of thanks.

“I did miss the uniform,” she admits. Tsume’s grin widens enough to bear teeth.

“I can imagine. I felt like crying when you traded it in for a fuckin’ dress and an apron. That shit doesn't suit you one bit.”

Mikoto rolls her eyes.

“I appreciate you agreeing to help my clan,” she says, trying to change the subject. “Your support means a lot.”

Tsume laughs. “Let me talk to the Aburame. I’ll bet we can get them on your side too, once they’ve heard what you’ve got to say.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Mikoto sighs.

“If you really wanted to say thank you, I’ll take a kiss,” Tsume smirks, leaning in closer.

“I’m married,” Mikoto chides playfully, pushing her away.

“So what?”

“ _ Happily  _ married, Tsume.”

The other woman raises an eyebrow.

“That’s a thing?”

Mikoto can’t help the chuckle that escapes her.

“You haven’t changed one bit, Tsume.”

A mischievous glint lights up the woman’s wild eyes.

“I hope we can say the same for you, Hakujou-no-Mikoto.”

It’s been ages since she’s felt this sly smile cross her lips. Felt the thrill in her blood at the promise of battle. The flame within that burned in the belly of every Uchiha. Mikoto has to admit that it feels damn good.

“I’ve still got it in me, Tsume. Just watch me.”

She straps a sword to her side, and starts stashing weapons in every conceivable place.

“Sure that boy of yours won’t get scared when his mommy shows up roaring mad?” Tsume teases, folding her arms and watching Mikoto with a tilt of her head.

“Sasuke deserved to see his mother get roaring mad a lot sooner than I did,” Mikoto replies, the Sharingan spiralling to life. “I’m not going to let him or Itachi down ever again.”

Tsume barely suppresses a squeal of delight.

“Wonder what the old badger’s gonna think when he sees you next.”

Crimson eyes narrow dangerously.

“With any luck, I’ll be the  _ last  _ thing he ever sees.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Tsume practically drools.

Outside the shelter, the sun is finally starting to rise. Mikoto hopes the new dawn will finally bring her the justice her heart is demanding.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hakujou-no-Mikoto roughly translates to "heartless/cold-hearted Mikoto."


	25. Recover the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yahiko does some awkward bonding with Hinata, while Sarutobi gets a good scolding from Tsunade :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my birthday yesterday. I am hungover, but life is good :D

Yahiko has been quiet for awhile now. Normally, Hinata isn’t really much for conversation either, and certainly doesn't mind quiet company, but the conversation which preceded this silence means it’s making her just a little uneasy.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He walks with weird, uneven steps like he’s not used to this body of his, tripping over his own two feet every ten seconds or so.   


_ “So Konan- Nagato- they did all this? They really did all this?” He’d asked, eyes wide in disbelief. _

Hinata had nodded.

_ “But- but they fixed it!”  _ she had tried to reassure him.  _ “Everyone who died is back, a-and we can rebuild everything that was destroyed. It’ll be okay.” _

Yahiko doesn't seem comforted by her insistence.

“-I just don’t get it,” he finally mumbles. 

“Hm?”

“Nagato never wanted to hurt anyone! Nagato was still scared of the dark for fuck’s sake! Nagato was- and Konan, she-”

He sounds like a lost little child, and Hinata  _ hates  _ that. But there’s nothing she can do that could soothe him right now.

“-They’re good people!” Yahiko insists. “There has to be a reason-”

“I believe you, Yahiko-san. I’m sure you can find your answers.”

(She doesn't believe a word of it, but Hinata wants to be comforting.)

That anyone could hold fond feelings for a man who had supposedly worn their body like some sort of puppet, and used it to terrorize the entire world-  Hinata can hardly believe her ears. 

She doesn't let any of these emotions show on her face, though. She maintains a companionable silence, not wanting to make him unnecessarily upset.

“You know- you remind me of her. Konan, I mean.”

Hinata blinks, taking a second to process Yahiko’s words.

“I do?”

“She’s really quiet, too. And she always looks kinda sad- but she’s always got a comforting word, and she’s always trying to help whenever she can. I get the feeling you’re the same kind of person.”

Yahiko manages to smile at her. It’s the same sort of warm, bright smile that Naruto has, and it makes Hinata’s stomach flutter.

“I hope you guys can be friends- Konan always seems so lonely. She could use another girl to talk to, y’know?”

Hinata’s face is growing far too warm. She bows her head, and continues onward.

It’s so strange. This man has the face and the voice of the man who’d hurt her so badly. Nearly killed her, nearly killed Naruto. But his movements, his words- there’s no doubt in her mind he’s an entirely different person. She feels like she has to help the poor, confused soul.

Yahiko is so very insistent that Jiraiya will have the answers he needs. She can only hope he’s right.

 

* * *

Jiraiya knows that look on Tsunade’s face all too well. That steel in her eyes, that stony, composed exterior, the stiff, almost mechanical way her body moves. It’s the same eerie calm at the shoreline right before a tsunami.

Their sensei catches it, as well. As they take their seats on opposite ends of a steel table, he keeps his eyes trained on her, the wheels in his head turning while he figures out what he wants to say, the chains binding him to his chair clanking together when he shifts his weight around.

“Tsunade-”

“-Shut up.”

She glares at the samurai at the door.

“Leave us alone, would ya?”

Neither of them dare to defy her order. They scurry away, and let the door slam shut behind them.

Tsunade’s hands ball into white-knuckled fists, teeth baring in a snarl.

“How could you?!” she growls. “How could you let that happen to him?!”

Hiruzen goes rather pale.

“We trusted you!  _ He  _ trusted you! You were supposed to  _ protect  _ him, not let some sick fucks put their hands all over him! How long was this even going on for?!”

(Though she can’t bring herself to say Orochimaru’s name, the other two are keenly aware of who she’s speaking of.)

“It was supposed to end after the second war,” Hiruzen tries to explain. “I didn’t think-”

“-How  _ long?!”  _

Hiruzen flinches at the volume of her voice. He can’t bring himself to look at her.

“...The first time it happened was just after you three made Chuunin,” he admits.

“We were  _ ten years old _ back then!”

Tsunade’s horror and rage rise in equal measure; Jiraiya and Hiruzen both shrink away from it.

“How the hell could you let that happen to him?! All those times you said you loved him like he was your own son- Did you ever even believe it?!”

“Nobody on Earth loved Orochimaru more than me!” Hiruzen insists, his own temper rising.

“Shut the fuck up with that bullshit!”

Tsunade rises to her feet and slams her fists on the table- the harsh sound echoes violently in the confined space.

“You letting that shit happen to him is no different than if you’d done it to him yourself! You didn’t give a  _ shit  _ about him!”

“There are sacrifices that shinobi have to make!” Sarutobi snaps. “You should understand that!”

“Easy to say when it wasn’t  _ you  _ making them!”

Tsunade looks fit to throw something. Jiraiya scoots as far away from her as he can in the confined space, and begs their former Sensei not to say anything else stupid.

“Did he even know what you were sending him off to do?” Tsunade hisses through clenched teeth. “Or did you just tell him the where, and he went off with a  _ yes, Sensei  _ like a good little pawn?”

“Orochimaru had always followed his orders unquestioningly,” Hiruzen admits. “He understood his missions and he completed them perfectly, no matter what was being asked of him.”

“Even selling himself off like a cheap whore, right?” Tsunade spits. “Did he even know what sex  _ is  _ before then?”

Sarutobi doesn't have an answer to that one.

Jiraiya frowns.

He hadn’t thought about that- his mind didn’t really wanna go there. But he remembers what they’d all been like, that lifetime ago.

Orochimaru had been small- probably too small, but maybe his imagination is just getting creative. And he’d been shy- Jiraiya joked a few times about how Orochimaru must be allergic to eye contact. 

Fuck- they’d still been losing their baby teeth. 

He’s kept a precious few pictures from way back when- there’s one from around the time where everything apparently went to shit. It’s embedded in his memory- he and Tsunade each had an arm looped around Orochimaru, who was apparently caught off guard mid-laugh (he’s not sure what they’re all laughing about though). Orochimaru is missing one of his front teeth in that picture.

Somehow, that makes it so, so much worse.

“And that bullshit with that Uchiha kid- what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t know it had happened to Itachi!” Hiruzen insists.

“How could you have  _ not _ ?! Are you just blind to whatever you don’t wanna see?!”

Jiraiya feels a sharp twinge of annoyance when Sarutobi only manages to look tired in response.

“It was never- it wasn’t supposed to be people like Itachi. It was always orphans- the ones without any family ties. And never anyone with a clan. Itachi was supposed to be safe.”

Tsunade slumps back into her chair, all her energy apparently leaving her at once. She cradles her head in her hands and groans.

“You say that like it makes it any better.”

There’s a long stretch where none of them dare to break through the silence. 

It’s Jiraiya who finally decides to speak.

“Naruto- Naruto was never- was he?”

“No,” Hiruzen answers, barely louder than a whisper. “No.”

Jiraiya almost feels guilty at the relief that washes over him. But along with the relief, more questions pop into his head.

“When I first took Naruto in,” he says, doing his best to keep himself composed, “he could barely even read. Why?”

“...Naruto has always struggled with academic work,” Sarutobi answers. “He gave it his best effort, but his grades were always pretty poor.”

Anger, white-hot and metallic, rises in Jiraiya’s throat.

“And you never thought getting him help might be a good idea?” 

“I-”

“-After everything Minato did- after what he and Kushina sacrificed- you couldn’t even be fucked to make sure their son was taken care of properly?! And what about your wife?! She died protecting him- doesn't that make him worth it to you?!”

Hiruzen flinches; Jiraiya’s harsh words appear to sting more than any of Tsunade’s.

“When they died, you  _ swore  _ to me that Naruto would be taken care of. That I didn’t have to worry because he’d be cared for to the best of your ability. If that was your  _ best  _ effort I’m surprised any of your own kids made it out okay!”

Guilt isn’t an emotion that Jiraiya enjoys, but it tugs at his mind and demands his attention.

“I thought Naruto would be taken care of. That’s why I agreed to stay away. But I finally meet him and he can barely read and he’d somehow managed to live for thirteen years eating nothing but fucking instant ramen! If I’d known-”

“Naruto was safer in Konoha,” Sarutobi insists. “Especially given what he is. You know people would come after him if you took him away.”

“People came after him anyway,” Jiraiya retorts. “In case nobody’s told you, Akatsuki tried taking him.”

“I heard,” Sarutobi answers. “But they’d sent Itachi. Itachi wouldn’t have taken him. His loyalty was with Konoha- Naruto was never in any danger.”

“Then why’d he come?” 

“...It was a threat,” Tsunade realizes. The two men’s attention turns toward her.

Her nails dig into her upper arms, blonde brow knitted in thought.

“He wasn’t there to take Naruto. He was there to threaten Danzo. To remind him that he was still alive.”

“How-”

“I got to talk to the kid a little bit. He told me you and Danzo promised you would protect Sasuke if he did your dirty work. I guess after you died he didn’t trust that vulture to keep his word, so he needed a little reminder of who he was dealing with.”

_ Well, he certainly did  _ **_that,_ ** Jiraiya grumbles to himself.  _ Mowing down jounin like training dummies. _

“I don’t blame him for being distrustful of Danzo,” Sarutobi grants. 

“Yet  _ you  _ trusted him,” Tsunade points out. 

“I realize my trust was misplaced. Letting him handle the darker dealings of the village was my mistake.”

“At least we can agree on that part.”

Tsunade has gone quiet again. Which isn’t a good sign.

“It was never my intention for things to get this bad,” Hiruzen says, softly. “I hope you can at least understand.”

(He’s got that fatherly tone in his voice again- the one Jiraiya has always hated.)

“I don’t understand,” Jiraiya says, his tone flat. He rises to his feet and leaves the room without another word, leaving Tsunade alone with their Sensei.

Tsunade glares at her hands, keeping them balled up tightly.

“I don’t understand either,” she says, her voice wavering. “I don’t understand at all.”

She stands as well, to follow Jiraiya out.

“I’m sorry,” Sarutobi calls after her. 

But she doesn't acknowledge him.

 

“We’re done here,” she informs the samurai, picking up her pace to catch up to Jiraiya.

Rubbing her temples to try to soothe the pounding in her head, she falls into step beside her teammate.

“Well, that was a fun and productive meeting,” Jiraiya grumbles.

“I didn’t care whether it was productive,” Tsunade huffs. “I just needed to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Got it all out of your system?”

“Not even close.”

Jiraiya frowns.

“Do we have any updates on the other Kage?” he asks her.

“None,” Tsunade answers. “They’re refusing to give any information to anyone from Konoha.”

They pass by Orochimaru’s cell- at least, it  _ used  _ to be Orochimaru’s cell. The door stands open, the cell deserted.

“Where’d he go?” Jiraiya inquires of one of the guards.

“With the Rice Daimyo,” the young man answers. “Didn’t you hear? He’s been released.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	26. Take back the Leaf!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what it means that Sasuke mistook Sakura for his mom when he first woke up. Shisui has a newly-acquired case of aquaphobia after his death. IDK how Danzo got his lackies mobilized but he did it. Also, Biwako is a doting grandma and a strict mother all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure people have noticed, but this fic is kinda getting long. So basically this is gonna be split into two, maybe three parts. Sooo- who wants to gimme suggestions for what to name part two? :D

“I’m bored!” Suigetsu whines, earning him a sudden slap upside the head from Karin.

“We’re all bored- so just shut your mouth and deal!”

Suigetsu mutters a few choice expletives under his breath, but he stops his complaining.

On the other side of the room, Sasuke finally stirs with a groan and a small whimper.

“Sasuke-kun, are you alright?” Sakura asks, still working her fingers through his messy, dark hair.

Sasuke doesn't seem to have really heard her.

“Mom-” he mumbles, his voice heavy and hoarse, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other reaches blindly toward Sakura. 

Sakura’s face turns as pink as her hair.

“I’m not- Sasuke-kun, it’s me.”

Sasuke blinks a few times, then shakes his head to clear away the fog. Black eyes come into focus, and he pulls himself into a half-seated position.

“Your mom and dad said they were heading back to Konoha,” Sakura answers, catching the question he hasn’t yet asked. “They’re okay, don’t worry.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrow. 

“...What about Itachi?” 

“Probably still stuck with Kabuto. Nobody’s sure where he went.”

A frown tugs at the corners of Sasuke’s mouth, a deep crease cutting across his forehead. 

“Hey, something wrong?” Naruto asks.

Sasuke shoots him a dirty look, but refuses to answer.

“Where’s Orochimaru?” he demands.

“We’re not-”

“-Heading toward Rice Country,” Juugo answers, stroking the head of a little bird that’s come in through the open window. “Back toward Otokagure.”

Yamato goes so pale so quickly as to almost be comical.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Apparently the Rice Daimyo said that, since Orochimaru-sama’s village is in his country, he falls under his jurisdiction. And he’s decided to let him off the hook.”

“Damn, your birds really can find anything, huh?” Suigetsu remarks, unable to fully repress his surprise.

Juugo shrugs his massive shoulders, continuing to pet the little bird resting on his arm.

“Whaddaya think he’s planning  _ dattebayo _ ?” Naruto inquires warily.

“If I was gonna make a guess,” Karin says, fiddling with her glasses, “he’s gonna offer the Uchiha an alliance for when shit finally hits the fan. And if I was gonna make a guess, they’re gonna take him up on that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Sakura’s voice holds a heavy note of skepticism.

“Well, seeing as Kabuto has their other kid, obviously his parents are gonna at least be tempted,” Karin sneers, as though she’s mocking the other girl. “And Orochimaru-sama has access to plenty of resources that the rest of them would be interested in.”

Nobody speaks for another few moments, until Suigetsu pipes up.

“Hey, Batty’s been locked in the bathroom for awhile- is he alive in there? Cause I really have to pee.”

A furrow develops in Karin’s brow, growing deeper as the seconds pass. She stands up, eyes turned toward the bathroom door.

“What’s up?”

Karin takes a cautious step toward the bathroom.

The shower is still running, even though it’s getting on an hour since Shisui went in there. She’d noticed before that his chakra seemed higher than normal, but now that she’s focusing on it, she realizes just how far it’s spiked. She’s about ninety-percent certain it isn’t normal for  _ anyone’s  _ chakra to be that elevated for this long. Especially doing something as mundane as taking a shower.

“...Something’s wrong,” she mumbles, putting a hand on the door.

Before anyone can scold her for being rude, she barges into the bathroom.

She doesn't find Shisui under the water, like she’d expected . Instead, he’s curled in in the corner of the bathroom, a towel wrapped tightly around his shoulders, shaking so badly his teeth chatter.

“Shisui?”

All the boy can manage is a whimper.

Karin reaches across the cramped space to shut the now-freezing water off. That seems to snap Shisui out of his trance- his head raises upward, a great, tremulous breath escaping him.

“...I thought I’d be fine,” he mumbles, words slurring together very slightly. “But I- I don’t know, I just- I stuck my head under the water and I-”

He reaches to scratch at his head full of damp curls. A weak laugh bubbles out of his throat.

“I’m scared of water. Fucking water. What sort of ninja does that make me, huh?”

An overwhelming flood of pity fills Karin’s heart- along with a strange, almost violent urge to protect this poor, poor soul huddled on the grimy bathroom floor. Heedless of the others crowded in the doorway, she gathers Shisui’s trembling body up and holds him close.

“Oh you poor thing. It’s alright, you’re alright, I got you,” she murmurs, cradling his head against her chest.

“Hey, Karin- I still gotta pee,” Suigetsu pipes up. “Can you uh- do the cuddly thing somewhere else?”

Karin grumbles something along the lines of  _ so insensitive,  _ but she helps Shisui to his feet, careful to keep the towel wrapped around him.

“Look away for a second, will ya?!” she scolds the others, who are quick to obey her command so she can help Shisui into a soft cotton yukata.

“Okay, I’m less naked,” Shisui tells the others, seemingly oblivious to Karin pulling him back into a tight hug. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“Hey, I-I’m sure it won’t last forever  _ dattebayo, _ ” Naruto says, in an attempt to be reassuring. “I mean, you’ve only been alive again for like what, four days? I bet it’ll get better!”

Shisui musters up a smile, but it’s hollow.

“Sure. Just gotta wait it out, yeah?”

He leans his head against Karin’s shoulder, and her face goes bright crimson.

“...Sasuke, you’ve got good taste in girls, y’know that?”

Yamato chokes on his glass of water halfway through bursting into laughter. Naruto snorts. Suigetsu doubles over in a fit of helpless guffawing, and both Sakura and Karin bypass all possible shades of red. 

Sasuke just raises an eyebrow.

He gets onto his feet, pacing around to walk off the last of the sedatives he’d been mistakenly given.

“So uh, Sasuke?” Naruto says, in an uncharacteristically small voice. “You feelin’ any better?”

Sasuke pauses mid-step, eyes darting toward the window.

A large, glossy-feathered black crow lands on the windowsill. A crow with crimson Sharingan eyes.

“Isn’t that-”

Naruto doesn't get the chance to finish that sentence. 

The crow takes off, soaring somewhere off in the distance. And Naruto suddenly finds himself chasing after Sasuke when he follows the bird out the window.

 

* * *

“-So it seems we won’t be able to rely on the Branch Family in the coming conflict.”

Hiashi is keenly aware of hundreds of suspicious Uchiha eyes on him. But he keeps himself composed, as does Fugaku, who’s standing right beside him. 

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be different- but it seems they see this as a chance to get revenge for the shameful way the Main Family has treated them for generations. I understand their upset, even if it’s a regrettable outcome.”

“So the entire Branch Family is going to side with the village?”  Fugaku asks, sounding frustrated.

“Well-”

Hiashi puts all his willpower into not squirming in discomfort at the distrusting looks he’s getting.

(Of course, he understands that distrust- he’s certain it’s not often that an outsider is allowed into the Uchiha clan’s secret gathering place, let alone allowed to speak there.)

“-My nephew has told me he’ll be siding with myself and the rest of the Main Family. Hizashi’s son, Neji. Right now, he’s with his team heading to the Land of Iron to join their sensei.”

“How do we know we can trust him?” an older Uchiha man demands.

“I have full faith in him,” Hiashi answers, unflinching. 

“And the main family?”

“You can count on our alliance. You have my word.”

A small wave of relief spreads around the room.

“How long do you think we’ll have?” Hiashi asks, glancing at Fugaku out of the corner of his eye.

“Depends on if Danzo can get into contact with any Root operatives from prison,” Fugaku answers. “Could be a couple days. Could be an hour.”

“Hm.” 

“Well have to make our move soon then,” Morikawa points out.

Fugaku folds his arms, closes his eyes, and lets out a sigh.

“We had a chance to make a difference before,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “But I hesitated. That hesitation cost us more dearly than anyone imagined. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

“What’s your suggestion, Captain?”

“As soon as we get confirmation from the other clans, we’ll make our move. The village is in a weak position, so with any luck-”

He trails off; luck has never really been on their side, so why would it start now?

Hiashi nudges him, doing his best impression of a smile.

“It’ll be alright.”

Fugaku really wants to believe it.

A sudden hush falls over the room.

“Something’s wrong,” Izumi says, brow furrowed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Hiashi becomes greatly unnerved by the eerie luminescence of hundreds of Sharingan activating at once.

“Not even a few hours, then,” Morikawa growls. 

“How many?” Fugaku asks, turning his attention over to Hiashi. 

Putting the Byakugan to use, Hiashi looks upward as well.

“...Fifty, maybe sixty,” he says. “Probably Black Ops.”

“Thought they could ambush us,” Fugaku grumbles.

The last word has barely left his mouth when someone starts beating on the entrance to the meeting place hard enough to make the entire structure shake.

“Captain, what about Mikoto-sama?” Someone toward the back pipes up. “She’s still up there.”

“She can handle herself,” Fugaku quips. “We’ll find her after we take care of this.”

A familiar burning fills his entire head when the Mangekyou Sharingan bursts to life in his one remaining eye.

Hiashi smirks.

(He hasn’t seen that look on Fugaku’s face in far too long.)

“Good to have you back, Kyougan Fugaku.”

“Save it for later,” Fugaku commands, although he smiles as well.  


And the door finally gives way.

 

* * *

Asuma thought coming back from the dead was the biggest surprise he was ever gonna get.

Well. He’s been wrong about plenty of things before.

“Mom?”

Biwako blinks a few times. Her brown eyes turn from him, to the newborn cradled in his arms, to Kurenai standing beside him.

The woman smiles at the three of them.

“Well, look at Mister “Girls-are-a-waste-of-time” now,” she chuckles.

Kurenai snorts, shooting Asuma a pretend-offended look.

“You actually said that?”

Asuma clears his throat, averting his eyes from the pair of them and ignoring the question.

“Well then. Let me see,” Biwako commands, holding her arms out to hold the baby.

“Her name is Mirai,” Kurenai tells her as she takes the child from Asuma and hands her to her grandmother.

“Well, aren’t you just a little doll?” Biwako coos at the bundle of blankets. “She looks just like her daddy.”

In his head, Asuma muses that the baby looks more like a half-baked potato, but he knows better than to say that out loud.

“Do you want to come in?” Kurenai asks, gesturing toward her ramshackle little shelter. “It’s not a lot, but it’s warmer in here.”

They leave the chilly air of twilight behind, to gather around the little fire pit in the center of the little shack.

“So, what happened here?” Biwako asks. “I’ve never seen the village in such a state.”

Kurenai frowns, huddling up against Asuma for extra warmth.

“Akatsuki happened,” she answers. 

“What’s that?” 

“Well, a bunch of not very nice people,” Asuma answers. “As a matter of fact, one of them killed me not very long ago.”

“Mmhmm. And how long have  _ I  _ been dead for?”

“Sixteen, almost seventeen years now,” Asuma answers.

“And where are Kushina and Minato?”

“...Still dead, as far as anyone knows.”

“Dead…”

Biwako shuts her eyes briefly.

“What about Naruto?” she dares to ask.

“Alive and well,” Kurenai answers. “He’s the reason everyone came back after the attack.”

The older woman smiles.

“I suppose Mikoto did a good job raising him, then.”

“Eh?” 

“It was always Kushina and Minato’s intention that she’d take care of Naruto if something happened to them. Don’t tell me he got pawned off on Jiraiya- that man is barely responsible enough to look after himself!”

Both Asuma and Kurenai fidget in discomfort. The baby picks up on the awkward mood, and starts to fuss.

“...Well, it was neither,” Asuma answers. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well- Dad didn’t give Naruto over to the Uchiha. And Jiraiya-sama didn’t meet him until he was way older.”

Biwako looks positively scandalized.

“Why not?!” 

“That’s something you’d have to ask Jiraiya or dad for yourself. Hell if I could tell you why he did what he did.”

“Watch your language in front of the baby!” Biwako scolds. Asuma flinches, and mumbles an apology.

Kurenai tries to say something more, but a surge of panicked voices outside draws their attention. Biwako keeps Mirai safely in her grasp when they head outside to find the source of the commotion.

Mikoto looks like she’s crawled straight out of a horror story, blood pouring down the side of her face, a few writhing bodies on the ground behind her, a few more being consumed by a pitch-black fire that burns relentlessly, consuming the bodies down to less than even ash. 

She smiles serenely at the three of them, and speaks in the same sweet, lilting tone she used when her sons had been very young.  


“Sorry to be a bother, but none of you would’ve happened to see my husband pass by this way, have you?”


	27. Chasing After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yahiko finally realizes that yes, Nagato is really gone. Jiraiya is conflicted about a lot of things. Hinata wants her husbando, and Itachi continues to fail at normal human interactions.

“I have to go after him-”

“-Like hell you have to!”

Tsunade seizes Jiraiya by the arm, yanking him around to face her and nearly pulling it clean from its socket in the process.

“I’m not letting you run off to chase after your new fuckbuddy!” she howls, face contorted in some strange combination of anger and hurt. “Your ass is staying right  _ here  _ with me, and with your godson! Unless you’re seriously telling me you’re willing to abandon Naruto again to run after  _ him. _ ”

Her voice cracks an entire octave, and Jiraiya thinks there’s tears in her eyes (though in the dim light it’s hard to be sure).

He sighs, bowing his head in defeat.

“...You’re right. Just- forget I said anything, okay?”

Tsunade growls, low and menacing.

“...Let’s get out of here,” she says, turning on her heel and stalking toward the exit. Jiraiya keeps his head down and follows after her.

The snow crunching under their feet is deafening in the silence between them. Jiraiya shivers, though more from Tsunade’s murderous aura than from the cold.

His hand wanders toward the mark on his neck.

Nothing is making any sense. He’d thought maybe things had changed- Orochimaru had been so very desperate for his company just last night- so why’d he run away all over again?

(...Is it weird to be hurt that Orochimaru left him behind?)

He’s pulled from his reverie by raised voices and people scuffling about. He and Tsunade exchange glances, before deciding to go and investigate.

“-Hinata-sama, don’t go near him!”

“He didn’t  _ do  _ anything! Niisama, let him go already!”

“Didn’t do- he tried to kill you!”

“-That wasn’t  _ him,  _ Niisama! Let me explain, please!”

“Will somebody please just tell me what the  _ fuck  _ is going on here?!”

-The familiar voice sends a jolt of electricity through Jiraiya’s brain, and he breaks out into a run. Tsunade follows on his heels.

“-Can somebody just tell me who the  _ fuck  _ Pain is?! I don’t understand!” 

They round a street corner, and the source of the fighting finally comes into view.

An icy hand seizes Jiraiya’s heart.

A steel-eyed Hyuuga boy struggles with the mass of flailing limbs and ginger hair in his grasp. His two teammates and that pretty girl with a crush on Naruto has the boy by the shoulders, pleading for him to release his grip.

“Niisama, Yahiko-san isn’t  _ him-  _ let him go, please!”

“C’mon, Neji, let him go- you’ve got the wrong guy!”

That cold hand squeezes tighter still, and Jiraiya thinks his heart might burst.

“Yahiko?!”

Abruptly, Neji drops the man in his arms. His teammates steady him when he stumbles backward. Yahiko scrambles to his feet, fumbling his way toward Jiraiya, wild-eyed and scared out of his mind.

“Jiraiya-sensei-”

There’s no trace of the Rinnegan in those wide, brown eyes. No hint of malice in that startlingly low voice. Just confusion and pure, blind panic. He grabs fistfulls of Jiraiya’s coat to keep from falling over.

“Sensei I don’t know what’s going on! Please, I-I don’t know what’s happening!”

Jiraiya seems to have lost his ability to make words come out of his mouth. He must’ve gone very pale, because Tsunade places a cautious hand on his back to keep him upright.

Hinata hurries to Yahiko’s side, wrapping an arm around him to steady him, mumbling comforting words.

Jiraiya feels like he’s been stabbed right in the gut. He knows he should say  _ something,  _ but it’s like his throat has suddenly sealed itself shut.

“Sensei,  _ please _ -”

Yahiko looks up at him, eyes wide with fear and wet with tears.

“Sensei- i-is Nagato really gone?”

It’s too painful. Jiraiya has to turn his head away.

“...Yeah. He’s gone,” he manages to say.

Though Jiraiya can look away from the abject despair on Yahiko’s face, he can’t block out the howl of grief that tears from the core of his being. He slumps to the ground, heavy, wet sobs wracking his skinny frame.

Finally, Jiraiya’s body seems to catch up with his mind.

He kneels down and gathers Yahiko up from the frozen ground. Then, he pulls him into a hug tight enough to maybe leave bruises.

(He never wants to let go. He wants this moment to last for forever, even though such a notion is ludicrous.)

“Sensei, I’m sorry-”

“-Don’t you dare apologize.”

Yahiko draws a series of great, shaking gasps in a vain attempt to steady himself. He clings to Jiraiya like a child clinging to their father.

“...He’s really gone. Nagato’s really gone..."

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“Konan- i-is Konan okay? Where is she?”

“She’s okay, don’t worry,” Jiraiya reassures him.

“I need to see her-”

Tsunade folds her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. Hinata addresses her a bit sheepishly.

“Hokage-sama, is Naruto-kun around?”

“He’s supposed to be,” Tsunade answers. “On the other side of the village.”

“I’ll come with you,” Neji says, quickly placing himself at Hinata’s side.

“I’ll be fine on my own-” Hinata tries to insist, but her cousin is adamant, and eventually she relents. 

“Please take care of Yahiko-san,” she murmurs, bowing deeply before departing.

Jiraiya helps Yahiko onto his feet again, still hugging him tightly.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of the cold.”

 

* * *

“Oh, what a cute baby!” Mikoto coos, beaming at Mirai. The gesture is uncanny on her dirty, blood-smeared face- particularly with the eerie, flower-petal pattern of the Mangekyou Sharingan in her eyes. “I remember when Sasuke was that little- you should enjoy it while it lasts! They grow up so fast, after all!”

Her gaze wanders up to Biwako’s face, and her smile grows brighter still.

“It’s been so long! I’m so glad to see you, Biwako-sama!”

Handing Mirai back to her mother, Biwako offers up a handkerchief.

“You’ve looked better,” she says, her flat, serious tone undercut by a playful sort of grin.

(They’re being so casual- though, after coming back from the dead, it’s no surprise that very little surprises them anymore.)

“Well, it’s been a rough little bit,” Mikoto replies, doing her best to wipe the blood and grime from her face.  She casts a distasteful look at one of the bodies on the ground, nudging his writhing frame with her foot. “Lucky for me, they really don’t make Black Ops like they used to- Itachi was fighting better than that when he was ten.”

“He was always a precocious sort,” Biwako remarks. “How’s he doing these days?”

Mikoto’s face fixes itself into a stony mask.

“He’s dead.”

The crease in Biwako’s brow deepens.

“Oh dear. What happened to him?”

“Well, from what I heard, Sasuke killed him.”

“Woah, hold up. Sasuke did what?!” Asuma cries out in disbelief. 

“I don’t have all the details, since I’ve been out of action for a little while,” Mikoto shrugs, her voice as casual as if she were talking about the weather. “But from all I’ve heard, Sasuke killed Itachi to get back at him for killing the rest of us. But now it’s come out that Itachi did it on an order from Sandaime-sama, so things are getting just a bit complicated.”

Biwako’s entire frame goes rigid, her eyes lighting up with angry disbelief.

“What sort of order is that?!” 

Mikoto shrugs again. 

“Like I said, things are a tiny bit complicated at the moment. I suppose you’d have to ask him and Shimura about the details.”

“Hmph. I suppose that man’s meddling is why poor Naruto didn’t get taken care of like he deserved.”

“I tried, Biwako-sama! They wouldn’t even let me near him!”

Outraged splotches of pink appear on Mikoto’s cheeks. Blood threatens to pour from her eyes again; they fade from red-and-black back to charcoal before it spills over. A tremor finds its way into her voice despite her best efforts to choke it back.

“I’m so sorry- I promised Kushina I would- I let her down-”

“-You hush.”

Asuma flinches back from the familiar, stern demeanor his mother takes on.

“Take me to him.”

“Wha-”

“To Hiruzen. I’ve got a few words for that husband of mine.”

“I’ll go too,” Asuma offers.

“You have a daughter to look after- you’re staying here,” Biwako orders.

“Mom-”

“I won’t hear any complaining out of you, young man! You’re a father now, and you’re going to act like one!”

Asuma immediately relents, going red in the face.

“...Alright, Mom.”

Mikoto smiles at Biwako, taking up that cheerful facade again.

“Well, we should find Fugaku before we go, yeah? He’ll be wondering if I’m okay, and I don’t want him to worry.”

The two women take off in a run.

 

* * *

Sasuke’s footing is just unsteady enough to make Naruto nervous as he chases him into the vast evergreen forest beyond the village gates. Sasuke ignores his pleas to slow down and be careful, his attention solely on the pitch-black crow before them.

Just as they’d figured, Itachi is standing in the middle of a small clearing, with Kabuto seated on the mossy ground, pretending to read some medical text or another.

“Niisan!”

Itachi curls and uncurls his hands, eyes darting around like he’s afraid.

“Naruto-” he says, passing over Sasuke completely. “There’s something you need to know.”

Sasuke looks like Itachi had just slapped him. Kabuto peers up from his book, a disdainful look on his face.

“Eh? Me? What for?”

“You have Shisui’s eye.”

“What? I don’t have any eyes but mine  _ dattebayo- _ ”

Kabuto closes his book and sets it aside, brushing his robes off when he stands up.

“So, you’re really going through with this, huh?” 

Itachi shuts his eyes, still fussing around with his hands.

“...I’d rather do it than be handed straight back over to Danzo and the others.”

Kabuto breaks out in a grin that makes his face seem almost inhuman. He pulls a wickedly sharp kunai from his robes, a talisman hanging from the handle.

“Aw, I’m flattered. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

"It's only better than the alternative."  


“Niisan, what are you going on about?” Sasuke demands.

In lieu of an answer, Itachi opens his eyes, revealing the pinwheel pattern of his Sharingan.

Naruto drops to his knees, choking and coughing and clutching at his throat.

“What are you doing?!” Sasuke is too terrified to be embarrassed by the cracks in his voice.

Without any warning, another jet black crow bursts from Naruto’s throat, leaving him doubled over and spluttering.

“What the fuck-”

A Mangekyou patterned like a shuriken comes to life in one of the bird’s eyes; Kabuto impales the talisman into the back of Itachi’s neck. Itachi goes limp for a few seconds, before reanimating.

The crow flies over to land on Itachi’s shoulder, its cawing echoing through the clearing. 

“W-what the hell was that for  _ dattebayo?! _ ”

After a few moments more, Itachi is able to speak again.

“...It was a failsafe. Shisui gave me his eye before he died. I gave it to you, with a single command that would be activated if it came into contact with my Sharingan. If Sasuke took my eyes like I’d planned, and if it ever came to that point, the Kotoamatsukami would ensure Sasuke’s safety.”

Naruto frowns.

“Eh? Order? What order?”

“Protect Konoha.”

Itachi looks away from the look of stunned betrayal on Sasuke’s face.

“Sasuke’s safety was always contingent on his loyalty to the village. This was my final failsafe to ensure that safety. That’s all there was to it.”

“You would’ve just let me be their brainwashed puppet my whole life?!” Sasuke cries out, outraged. “You would’ve let me walk along like an ignorant fucking child, ignorant of everything?! You would’ve let me hate you forever and just blindly follow the people who ruined our lives?!”

“...Yes.”

“ _ Why _ ?!”

“Because your safety was the most important thing.”

“What’s safety worth if I can’t even choose it for myself?!”

Itachi runs a hand through the fringe of his hair.

“I...I realize that, now. It was wrong of me. And stupid of me to trust Shimura and the others to keep their word. I’m sorry.”

Sasuke chews on his bottom lip to maintain what little is left of his composure.

“...and you didn’t even want  _ me  _ here, did you? You were only looking for  _ him.  _ You wouldn’t have bothered telling me if I hadn’t come along.”

A nod.

The silent admission breaks something inside the younger Uchiha. He turns his back on Itachi so his older brother can’t see the pain on his face.

“Sasuke?” Naruto murmurs.

He tries to take a step forward, but collapses into the dirt instead.

“Sasuke!”


	28. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, Sasuke is upset. Itachi continues to fail at human-ing. Mikoto has an embarrassing nickname for her husband and Sai is here because I said so :D

### Chapter Text

“-Don’t _touch_ me!”

Sasuke slaps Naruto’s hand away with enough force to send him staggering sideways. He takes sharp, shallow gasps of air that make his chest heave painfully. He gags and vomits, though there isn’t much more than bile for him to throw up. Fighting back waves of vertigo, he struggles back onto his feet, running hands through his hair, making the disheveled mess atop his head even worse.

“Sasuke-”

When Itachi tries to reach out toward his brother, he’s met with a fist square to the jaw. Sasuke feels the sickening crunch as it breaks and reforms beneath his knuckles. The crow bearing Shisui’s eye takes off for safety.

It’s not enough.

He thinks he feels something burst when his knee connects with Itachi’s gut, but he knows that’ll heal as well. He bashes Itachi’s skull against a tree. Slams his unresisting body onto the forest floor and straddling his skinny frame (he’s thin, so thin, why is his brother so frail, it isn’t _right_ ). Punches that _blank passive_ **_say somethingyoubastard_ ** face again and again, but it does nothing to alleviate his rage.

(Useless. It’s like beating up a ragdoll.)

Sasuke pays no heed to Naruto’s horror, or to Kabuto’s dark amusement. Because only one man in the world matters to him right now.

He balls his hands up in Itachi’s heavy crimson cloak, shaking so badly it’s hard to get a grip.

“ _Why_?!”

(Sasuke isn’t sure if he’s pleading or demanding.)

Skinny, crooked fingers wrap delicately around his wrists, so cold they make him shiver.

“...Your life was always the most important thing,” Itachi answers, his voice weak. He gives Sasuke that look, that _look_ like he’s still a child, like he’s still that naive little brat running at his brother’s heels but never catching up. “I made a promise to our mother and father. That I would protect you. And this was the best way.”

Sasuke shakes his head, shoving himself off of Itachi and getting back to his feet again. Anger and hatred and confusion and hurt spiral together in his heart and he feels nauseous all over again.

“Why _me?!_ What made me so much more worth saving than Mom or Dad?! Why did _I_ have to be the one you let live?!”

“You were the only one I _could_ save.”

Itachi presses a hand to his forehead, eyes shut tight.

“I ran out of time. I had to save you. It was the only thing I could do. It was the best I could do.”

“The best thing you could’ve done was kill me!”

The burning in Sasuke’s eyes is overwhelming. He smells faint copper and he’s sure that blood has taken the place of the tears he’s been holding back.

“You should’ve slit my fucking throat! You should’ve let me die like I should have! But you fucking let me _live_ and I don’t know _why_!”

“Because the whole reason I did what I did was to _protect_ you!”

Neither Sasuke nor Naruto or even Kabuto are able to repress the jolt of shock at Itachi actually, properly yelling.

“The day you were born I made a promise to our father that I would keep you safe!” Itachi declares, steel in his eyes and fire in his voice. “I made that promise again right before I put a blade through his back! I made a promise and I would’ve gone through a hundred times worse than what I did if it meant you would be safe!”

Sasuke flinches like he’s been slapped. Proper tears cut sickly pink paths through the blood that paints his pale face.

“...You would’ve handed me over to the same guy that told you to kill off our entire family just for some hollow words about keeping me _safe_ ? You would’ve brainwashed me to obey the same bastard that let you get _raped_ just on his word?!”

His voice rises in pitch and volume with every word he speaks, until he’s screaming once again. Itachi shrinks back like some fucking _battered housewife_ and it makes Sasuke madder still.

“I wanted-”

“-What about what _I_ wanted, Itachi?!”

The younger brother’s voice grows shrill with his emotions. He clutches at his chest like he’s in agony, bloodshot eyes wide with a manic energy.

“I’m not a child anymore! That child is dead! He died on the ground in the middle of that fucking compound the night you left! He died and _I’m_ the one that’s left! I’m the one who gets to deal with the fucking mess you made! He died but his ghost still follows me around and all he wanted was his big brother to make everything okay, even after everything you did!”

He takes a great shaky breath like their father always did after losing his temper.

“You ran away.” the words are bitter as wormwood rolling of his tongue. “You’ve always been running away. Always fucking flicking my forehead and running off, promising a _some other time_ that never comes. Even though you’re dead you’re still trying to run from it. But I never could, Itachi. And you tried to make sure I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He tries vainly to wipe away the blood and tears, smearing them over his forearm. The same way he’d do when he was small, and he had cried for any of the myriad things that broke his tender heart.

“...All I wanted was my brother. I hated you so badly- but all I wanted was you. I wanted you to hold me the way you used to and tell me it was all okay even if it was a lie. But I still _hated_ you. I hated you and I loved you and I was terrified of you all at once and it _killed_ me, Itachi. Did any of that ever come up in that plan of yours?”

Silence.

Itachi doesn't have an answer to give. Sasuke knows that, and it breaks him all over again.

 

“...Sasuke,” Naruto mutters, cursing himself for how small his voice sounds.

His vision is blurry, and his throat is half-closed from the emotions threatening to burst out of it. He expects Sasuke to resist when he puts his arms around him, but his energy is completely gone, and Sasuke merely slumps against him, still drawing sharp, hiccuping breaths. Naruto doesn't know what else to do but support him so he doesn't fall back into the mud.

Itachi’s crow tentatively glides down from its perch, landing back on his skinny shoulder. It nips at the shell of Itachi’s ear, making small, worried sounds.

“Well that was fun.”

Kabuto has all the hallmarks of a man trying very hard not to laugh. Naruto shooks him a dirty look, but Sasuke is far too tired to care. And Itachi-

He gestures for the crow to climb onto his arm; it obeys without hesitation.

“Please make sure Shisui gets this back,” he tells Naruto, stretching his arm and the bird out toward him. “Godaime-sama will be able to put Shisui’s eye where it belongs.”

“Huh? Can’t you bring it to him yourself _dattebayo?_ ”

Itachi shakes his head.

“I...can’t be near him.”

“But why not?!” Naruto cries out, confusion written in every inch of his being.

“I can’t be near him,” Itach repeats, wrapping skinny arms around himself, chasing comfort he can never find.

“Alright are we done here? Because we’ve got places to be.”

“N-”

“-Yes,” Itachi interjects, cutting off Naruto’s refusal. “We can go.”

Like a beaten dog, Itachi follows Kabuto out of the clearing.

“What, you’re just gonna leave Sasuke here like this?”

Itachi doesn't so much as slow his pace; his crow stays behind, waiting patiently. White-hot anger wells up inside Naruto, and he screams despite his throat being raw.

“Sasuke’s right! All you do is run away _dattebayo!_ Don’t you even care that he’s hurt?!”

But the only response Naruto gets is his own voice echoing back to him.

 

* * *

 

“You’re alright!”

Fugaku sweeps Mikoto up into his arms and spins her around. She giggles like a smitten schoolgirl, heedless of the grime and viscera they’re smearing all over each other, not minding the chaos all around them.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Fugaku says, though there’s a noticeable tint of relief in his voice.

“I’m a big girl, Fucchan. I can take care of myself,” Mikoto chides, kissing the tip of his nose before he sets her back down. Fugaku blinks in surprise.

“Biwako-san-”

“What on Earth happened to your eye?” the woman demands, inspecting the bandaging on his face.

“Long story,” Fugaku answers, with a dismissive shrug.

“Well, tell me on the way. I’m going with you.”

“What-  But we’re-”

Mikoto flags Hiashi down. He ducks out of the scuffle he’s caught in to come over to them.

“You think you can handle things here? Fugaku and I are gonna get the boys and regroup, if that’s alright.”

“I’d say between me and Tsume that we’ve got things covered,” Hiashi says, with a dismissive huff. “We’ll send word if we need help. By the way-”

He clears his throat.

“If that boy of yours isn’t seeing anyone- Hinata doesn't have a boyfriend yet, and she’s getting to the age where she needs to start thinking about a serious relationship.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Sasuke,” Fugaku answers, brushing him off.

Biwako hears without really listening, mouth pressed tightly shut, her mind working a million miles an hour.

It hurts her heart to see the village in this state. To see Konoha tearing itself apart from the inside- it had been Hashirama’s worst nightmare. That poor man must be spinning in his grave.

But she’ll worry about that later.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to fight our way out, darling,” Mikoto sighs, casting an affectionate look at her husband.

“So, same old, same old,” Fugaku replies, his face as grim as ever.

Biwako pulls herself back to the present.

Konoha can wait for now. In this moment, all she needs to worry about is getting to her bastard husband and that awful friend of his and slapping the taste out of both their mouths.

“Will you be alright, Biwako-sama?”

“I’m old, not dead,” she replies, tersely. “Worry more about keeping up with me.”

“Of course.”

The familiar hum of adrenaline in their veins keeps them going through the battle-torn streets, doing their very best not to kill anyone they don’t absolutely have to. Fugaku catches a glint in Mikoto’s eyes that he hasn’t seen in a very long time- a spark, an energy in them he’s missed so, so much.

(He’d almost forgotten just how beautiful his wife is- and just how dangerous.)

They’re out of the village and about three miles deep in the brilliant, autumn-painted forest before they’re finally able to stop and catch their breath.

Mikoto’s crimson eyes narrow, sweeping over their surroundings in suspicion.

“I feel like we’ve been followed,” she says, curling her fingers tighter around the handle of her sword. “But I can’t see where they are.”

“It’ll be ANBU then,” Biwako says. “Chakra suppression is standard training for them.”

“You’d better show yourself, then,” Fugaku calls out, feeling just a bit stupid talking to the foliage around them.

A rustle in the leaves. A moment’s hesitation. Then, a soft voice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you- but it’s hard to get away unnoticed, and I was trying to spare myself the trouble.”

A young man with a short crop of inky black hair drops down from a maple tree, landing with a soft _thud_ on the ground below. His face is fixed in a forced, plastic sort of smile that makes the three distrust him right away.

“You guys must be Sasuke’s parents- it’s nice to meet you.”

Mikoto draws her sword back, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Hm? That really depends on who you’re asking.”

“Answer the damn question,” Fugaku growls.

That fake smile doesn't falter.

“Like I said- depends who you’re asking. I’m a member of ANBU’s Root division, for starters. I’m also an artist, although that’s really more of a hobby than anything. Temporary member of Team Seven, a friend of Naruto-kun’s- but that’s all a bother to remember, so you can call me Sai if you want.”

Mikoto bears her teeth in a snarl.

“If you’re Root, why shouldn’t I kill you here? You’re one of Danzo’s.”

“I was,” Sai answers, frankly. “I suppose you could kill me if you wanted, but I think I can be more useful alive.”

“Oh?”

“See, Danzo-sama wants you two dead pretty badly. But the problem is, I’d really like him to go fuck himself, so I’ve decided it’s worth him getting mad at me to just let you go- especially since you have the Sandaime’s wife with you.”

“So why follow us?” Biwako asks.

“I have something for Naruto-kun.”

Sai rummages around in his small backpack, retrieving a small, sealed scroll.

“If you could make sure this gets to him, I’d be grateful.”

Gingerly, Mikoto takes the scroll from him.

“...How do we know we can trust you?”

“You don’t,” Sai answers honestly. “But Naruto and Sakura do.”

As he says this, that plastic smile changes. Becomes something more warm and sincere.

“You don’t wanna come this us?” Fugaku asks, still wary.

“I’ve got work left to do here, so it’s best to stay behind for now. I trust you understand my position."

The boy disappears in a puff of smoke, and the three are alone in the forest once again.  


"Well," Mikoto says, after a short silence. "Our boys are waiting for us. We should get going."


	29. secret meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sai has a plan. Anko has conflicting feelings. Yahiko is a wreck.

“Orochimaru, is this girl one of yours?”

The Rice daimyo quirks an eyebrow, taking in the flustered, angry young woman who’s just burst into his office.

“She was,” Orochimaru answers, not betraying any surprise or even flinching in his seat. “Daimyo-sama, this is Mitarashi Anko. Anko, this is the Rice daimyo.”

Anko balls her hands up tightly to mask their shaking. She steps over the guards she’s just knocked out, lavender eyes fixated on Orochimaru like he were the only thing in the world.

“Is there something you need, Anko?”

She grits her teeth, glaring at him, almost unable to make words come out of her mouth.

“I heard- I got told that you-”

Orochimaru tilts his head, regarding Anko with a carefully blank expression.

“Ah, so word is spreading. I figured that might happen.”

“...So it’s true, then.”

“I have no reason to lie anymore, dear. The truth is messy enough all on its own.”

Anko locks eyes with her former mentor, anger and hurt and confusion written into every fiber of her being.

“Is that why you left?” She asks, her voice surprisingly soft.

“One of the reasons,” Orochimaru answers.

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?!” Anko demands.

“Because I didn’t want you to know.”

Unlike his student, Orochimaru sounds absolutely exhausted.

“...I would’ve left with you,” Anko mumbles.

“That’s precisely why I made sure you would hate me. The path I was on was one you couldn’t follow.”

Anko shuts her eyes. Pulls a face. 

“You abandoned us.”

“I know.”

“Ever since you left, everyone looks at me like I’m some sort of circus sideshow. Like I’m broken or some shit. Just because I had anything do do with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Those last words stop Anko’s thoughts cold. She  _ glares  _ at him like his apology is offensive.

“What, you started feeling guilty now?!” she growls.

“Well it would appear being forced to share headspace with another person for awhile has reignited that sentimental part of me,” Orochimaru answers.

The daimyo gives him an odd look, but doesn't pry into the matter further.

Anko’s eyes still bore into Orochimaru. Orochimaru turns his head away, not moving from his seat.

“...Sensei, _ look _ at me.”

It’s Orochimaru’s turn to be surprised. His head turns back around so fast that the daimyo wonders how his neck doesn't snap.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve called me that.”

Anko finally realizes what she’s done. Her face turns bright red, and she fidgets uncomfortably.

Looking more than a little amused, the daimyo gestures to the empty chair beside Orochimaru.

“We’re having tea brought in while we discuss a few things. Why don’t you join us, Anko?”

She hesitates for awhile, eyes darting from Orochimaru to the daimyo. But, ultimately, she decides to take the offered seat.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she pointedly hisses at Orochimaru, to which she receives a sad sort of smile.

“I know, Anko.”

 

* * *

Jiraiya waves his hand in front of Yahiko’s face, trying to get  _ some  _ sort of reaction out of him. But Yahiko remains totally still, eyes glassy and unfocused, face perfectly blank. His hands betray his emotion, however, knuckles going white against the heavy blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Is he-”

“-He’s just in shock. Give him time, okay?” Tsunade says, gently pulling Jiraiya’s hand away.

Jiraiya looks sadly at his former student, his heart aching to comfort him. Even still, he knows comforting is useless, so he heeds Tsunade’s request and steps away.

“We should find that woman. I’m sure she’ll want to know he’s alive.”

“I don’t know if she’ll believe it,” Jiraiya points out. “She wasn’t exactly keen on seeing me.”

“Well, she’ll just have to listen,” Tsunade quips. “Shouldn’t be hard for her.”

Jiraiya pulls at the back of his neck and sighs.

“I suppose we don’t-”

His train of thought is brought to a screeching halt by loud, rapid banging on their hotel room door.

“Granny! Pervy Sage! Open up, it’s important!”

Jiraiya barely avoids getting hit in the face when he pulls the door open.

To say the least, Naruto looks flustered. Blue eyes wide, a crow perched on his shoulder, he bursts into the hotel room like a gust of winter air, dragging Sasuke behind him by the wrist.

“I’ve got Shisui’s other eye!” he declares. “Granny, we need to give it back to him!”

“Woah, slow down- what?” 

“Sasuke’s brother kept it hidden and he- uh, gave it to me I guess  _ dattebayo.  _ He said to make sure we get it back to him!”

“What, it’s in the bird?” Tsunade raises an eyebrow so high it vanishes into the fringe of her blonde hair.

“Yeah! Look-”

Naruto raises his arm; the crow hops onto it obediently. Tsunade and Jiraiya lean in with identical motions to inspect it.

“Holy shit, it really is,” Jiraiya breathes.

The crow ruffles its feathers, making a small annoyed sound when Tsunade picks it up.

“Uh, what’s his problem?” Jiraiya asks, gesturing toward Sasuke’s ashen, blood-smeared face.

“Long story,” Naruto answers, sounding thoroughly deflated.

“Well, uh, lemme get a washcloth or something-”

Jiraiya hurries to make himself useful while Tsunade looks over the eye embedded in the crow.

“It’s stuck in there with some sort of jutsu- once I figure that out I can give it back no problem,” she says, when she’s finished.

“Oh that’s good. I’m sure he’ll be-”

Naruto’s voice drifts off when he notices the silent visitor seated on the futon. He makes a startled noise somewhere between shock and confusion.

“Naga-”

“Yahiko,” Jiraiya corrects, returning with a wet cloth for Sasuke to wash his face with. “Naruto, that’s Yahiko.”

“I thought-”

Naruto cuts himself off. Yahiko manages to turn brown eyes up at him, before they glaze over again.

“Is he-”

“That’s a long story, too. Just give him a minute.”

Naruto nods his understanding.

“Alright,” Tsunade says, finally gathering herself. “Take me to that Shisui guy. We’ll talk to him about putting his eye back.”

 

* * *

“You let them go.”

Sai pauses in his tracks, putting his hands up in the air, not turning to face the accusatory voice behind him.

“So I did,” he answers, bluntly. “What of it?”

“Why?”

 

A shrug. A smile.

“Maybe I’m just suicidal.”

He hears the familiar sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

“You betrayed the Organization.”

“That’s right.”

“So your loyalty isn’t with Danzo-sama.”

“What an astute observation.”

A pregnant silence. Sai can practically hear the awkward crickets chirping.

“...Good. Neither is ours.”

“Eh?” 

Genuine surprise isn’t really a feeling Sai is all that used to. He dares to turn around.

The two men wear identical serpent masks; one has long, tied-back dark hair, the other an unkempt tawny mop. Though he can’t see their faces behind the ceramic, he imagines they might be smiling at him. Or smirking. Or something.

The messy-haired one holds his hand out. Sai tilts his head, confused.

“Danzo said he had a feeling you’d betray him. He sent us to kill you, actually.”

Sai raises an eyebrow.

“And you’re not going to?”

The one with long hair shakes his head.

“It’s like you told those Uchiha- we think you’d be more useful alive.”

“Useful to who, exactly?” Sai dares to ask.

“Orochimaru-sama is gathering everyone he can for the war that’s coming,” the tawny one answers. 

(War. Huh- Sai isn’t sure how he feels about that.)

“If it’s something you think would interest you, meet up with the others at Otogakure.”

“And how exactly can I meet up at a place when I have no idea where it even is?” Sai asks. 

“Anyone who allies themselves with Orochimaru-sama will always be able to find their way.”

Sai decides not to ask what the hell that means.

“Well-”

He flinches when the one with messy hair pulls his Konoha headband off, wiping it in the blood from the cut on Sai’s shoulder.

“What are you-”

“-Danzo-sama asked for proof of your death. I think bringing this to him should tide him over for awhile.”

He tucks the headband away in one of his pouches, and the two men are gone in twin puffs of smoke.

Well then. That wasn’t weird at all. 

Sai shakes his head and heads back toward the village. He’s got something else to worry about right now.

He takes off toward Konoha- toward the secret meeting place for Danzo’s organization. The message on that scroll he prays will reach his friends swims through his mind while he runs through the blur of green.

_ Naruto and Sakura- _

Something wells up deep inside his chest- he wonders if it’s fear.

_ I’m sorry I can’t be there with you right now. I can’t imagine what must be going on while we’re apart.  _

A fallen branch snaps underfoot- his brain amplifies the sensation a thousand times.

_ I wish I could join you where you are, but I don’t think I can manage it just yet.  _

His heart is pounding far harder than is warranted right now.

_ See, I’ve got a plan. It’s a crazy plan, and I’m not entirely sure it’ll work, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try. _

_ I’m going to try to persuade as many from Danzo’s organization as I can to leave it with me, and to ally against him for whatever comes next. I don’t know how many I can save- or if I can save any of them at all- but I consider them my comrades. I owe it to them to at least try. _

He shakes his head while he runs, trying desperately to clear it.

_ If I can’t get anyone on my side, they’ll probably kill me. If that happens- if you don’t see me again- I just want both of you to know that I’m grateful. The two of you saved my life. If I die, I’ll at least die as a human being, and not as some tool to be used for the sake of another. If I die, at least I’ll die with a name. _

_ So please, don’t be sad if we never meet again in this life. I’ll be okay, no matter what happens next. _

When he’d written that letter, he’d stared for a long time after he signed his name at the bottom.

It was just supposed to be a codename, right? Something temporary, to be discarded when his mission was complete. He’s gone through plenty before.

But this one-

This one is special to him. Because this name is the name he is called by his friends. This name is the name he’s begun calling himself in his head- which is odd, because he’s never assigned a name to himself before.

_ Sai. _

Yes. Even if he dies he won’t be too sad. Because at least he’ll die as a full human being. And it’s a death he’s chosen of his own volition. And if it means he can save at least one other person trapped in the Organization-

He’s surprisingly okay with that.

  
  



	30. Across the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danzo finally did a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanowrimo is hard. Writing is hard. 
> 
> Also, does anyone have any decent anime recommendations? I mainlined Devilman Crybaby and I need something new.

A surge of angry disappointment wells up in Obito’s gut when Kakashi doesn't so much as resist being pulled into the Kamui a second time. He gives Obito this dead-eyed stare like a fucking lost puppy, and it pisses Obito off so badly he nearly succumbs to the overwhelming urge to slap that look of his stupid face.

“You’re not doing a very good job of changing my mind,” he says, careful to maintain the cold facade he’s kept up so well until now. 

Kakashi shoots a deadly glare at him, but at least there’s some fucking  _ life  _ in that eye of his now. Obito pulls his mask off once again, offering up a mockery of a friendly smile.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, in a tone that he meant to be teasing, but instead comes across as pretty pathetic in his own ears.

“ _ I  _ thought you were dead!” Kakashi snaps back.

“Well, I’m here now.”

“You had fifteen  _ years  _ to tell me that!” 

There’s genuine hurt in those words, but Obito pretends he doesn't hear it.

(After all, pretending is better than admitting he’s the reason Kakashi is so hurt.)

“Why didn’t you tell me you were alive before?! Why did you hide from me?!” Kakashi demands, hating himself for the surge of emotion that makes his voice crack. “I thought you died!”

“I did die,” Obito responds, softly.  “That Obito you knew from back then died a long time ago, Kakashi.” 

“Cut out that bullshit!” Kakashi roars. “You’re  _ alive!  _ You’re  _ here!  _ Why didn’t you tell me?! Why didn’t you tell Rin?! Why didn’t you tell Sensei?!”

Obito glares, his temper flaring up red-hot.

“I did it for a reason.”

“But  _ why?!” _

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“What about Rin? Do you have any idea how much she suffered because she thought you were gone?! Why didn’t you tell her?! Didn’t you love her?!”

Obito freezes. Another surge of temper rises in his throat.

“Of course I did,” he says, in a soft, dangerous hiss, pulling at his lower eyelid. “More than anything. It’s why we have Mangekyou now, remember?”

“They why didn’t you tell her, if you didn’t tell anyone else?!”

Obito throws his head back in frustration.

“The way I am- what happened to me- I know Rin wouldn’t be able to accept it. How could I face her with what I became?!” he gestures at the mutilated half of his face, his voice cracking ever so slightly under the weight of his emotions.

“Rin would have accepted you no matter what! That’s the kind of person she was!”

“I don’t see why you’re clinging to the past, anyway” Obito snaps back. “Rin is dead! You should remember that- you’re the reason she’s dead, remember?!”

The way Kakashi looks at Obito after those words is akin to the look a puppy would give to the man who had just kicked it. A normal person in this situation would probably feel pity- but given that Obito is who he is, he instead aims a punch at Kakashi’s face.

At least Kakashi retains enough presence of mind to dodge the blow, and aim one back at his old friend.

“I didn’t want to kill her! I  _ had  _ to!”

“You still did it!”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

They trade pointless blows for what feels like forever, until their shared anger is exhausted. Chests heaving, they exchange heated, furious glares, standing on identical featureless white boxes.

“I know you blame me for her dying. I’m sorry, but I can’t fix that!” Kakashi declares.

Obito lets out a harsh, barking laugh.

“Blame you? You think I blame  _ you _ ? You’re stupider than I though, Kakashi!”

Kakashi blinks, caught off guard.

“What…?”

“Why would I blame you? I know you loved her as much as I did. Why would you have killed her if you could help it?”

“Then why-”

“You were just weak. That’s all there is to it- you couldn’t protect her when you needed to. But the people who turned her into a jinchuuriki are the reason that she really had to die. Your only fault was being too weak to save her. I understand that- I’m not stupid like you are.”

Kakashi’s eyes fall closed. Obito sighs.

“I know you wanted her to live.”

“I wanted  _ both  _ of you to live.”

When Kakashi opens his eyes again, he’s greeted by the sight of Obito’s gloved hand outstretched toward him.

“I thought I’d be happy not seeing you until- well. I was wrong. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Kakashi stares at that hand, then at the unmangled half of Obito’s face. In it, he sees the ghost of the child he’d once been- of the crybaby Uchiha who’d annoyed him to no end in their youth. Of the one who’d sacrificed himself so his friends could both live (even though it hadn’t been enough).

“Kakashi.”

Obito’s voice is softer, now.

“Humans don’t cope well being on our own. So please-”

Kakashi’s heart pounds violently against his chest. His hand twitches,  _ screaming  _ at him to reach out, to close the gap between them.

“I want Rin’s death to have been worth something,” Obito pleads. “What’s the point of her sacrifice if this system that doesn't even care about her death is allowed to continue to rot this world away?” 

The complete, perfect silence that stretches out between them is painful.

“I know how to fix it, Kakashi. Please help me do it.”

(He might be lying. He might be planning something ghastly. Kakashi knows these things, and yet he can’t seem to bring himself to care.)

Kakashi lifts his arm up. Gingerly, he stretches it out, and then, finally, his hand and Obito’s meet, grasping across the abyss.

“...I missed you,” Kakashi rasps out, a bit embarrassed at the admission.

Obito manages the barest ghost of a smile.

“I’m glad to see you again,” he admits. 

 

* * *

“Danzo-sama, the Kage want you for questioning.”

“Is that so? Well, I guess I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

The masked guard at the cell door shifts anxiously, before turning themselves back forward. Danzo follows, dropping his voice low when he speaks next.

“And the problem we’d discussed earlier?”

“The Hebi duo brought his headband. They’ve confirmed his death at their hands.”

“Good. That’s one traitor out of the way. And what of Orochimaru?”

“We were unable to intercept him or the Rice daimyo. We believe they’re in Otogakure now- and it’s become apparent that they were followed by Mitarashi Anko.”

“That’s a problem we can address at a later time. And the Kage?”

“It doesn't seem as though they’re sympathetic to your motivations, Danzo-sama.”

“And Hiruzen?”

“He’s finished his questioning and been safely returned to his cell- they’ve decided they want to speak to the two of you separately.”

Danzo hums his understanding.

When they turn a corner, he’s flanked on either side by more samurai. Danzo regards them with distaste, but maintains what could easily be mistaken for a resigned silence now that he’s not alone with his operative. The masked Root agent takes his cue and becomes silent as well. 

The air outside is brisk and refreshing against his skin, the sun peeking through the blanket of dark gray clouds. All the shinobi they happen to pass give him black looks that would turn his blood cold, were Danzo a weaker man. He keeps his mind set firmly on his goal, as he always does. 

His operative has done a good job with the dummy seal over his Sharingan- nobody who’s examined it seems to have been able to tell it’s been replaced. Perhaps in hindsight, they’ll realize what a poor idea it was to allow ANBU operatives to guard him if their intent was to keep him isolated.

Or, perhaps they’ll no longer find themselves concerned with such things.

He enters the meeting room as though he hasn’t a care in the world. And nobody gathered there suspects anything is amiss until it’s too late.

(It’s a shame that two of the Kage seem to have left the meeting. But Danzo can make do with two just fine.)

 

* * *

“Where the  _ fuck  _ have you been?!” 

A aims a blow at his younger brother, which Killer Bee only dodges by millimeters. 

“Woah woah woah, take it easy!” Bee urges. “I just figured it’d be better to lay low for a bit since Akatsuki was sending punks after me, yeah? I didn’t mean to make ya worry-”

“-Worry?! As if I’d ever-”

Gaara pushes the two of them a safer distance apart with his sand, arms folded and face blank. Internally, he's glad he made the choice to follow the Raikage out when he'd heard his brother had arrived.  


“We don’t need another fight breaking out,” he says, flatly. “We’re in hot water with the Iron daimyo already as it is.”

A bristles dangerously.

“You’re a hundred years too young to be speaking to me like that!” he growls. Gaara tilts his head to the side in response, perhaps out of confusion.

“At any rate, we need to be getting back to the meeting. Didn’t you want to ask Shimura something important?”

A huffs in a resigned, heavy sort of way.

“We’re not done here,” he warns his brother, shooting him a look that could freeze water in July.

“Yeah, yeah. Good to see ya too, bro.”

The three of them receive quite a shock when they re-enter the meeting room to find Danzo seated in the Hokage’s chair. And an even greater shock to find Oonoki and Mei speaking to him, as pleasantly as though he were a dear old friend.

A mutters something that sounds like  _ what the fuck.  _ But Gaara has a feeling they both already know what’s happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this chapter is shorter than the others. The next one is gonna be a long one though, I promise!


	31. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wammy is sorry for the delay. Clusterfuck is happening. Part one is coming to an end- look out for Chase the Dawn after the next chapter or two :D

“Woah, chill out for a minute- who are-”

“You guys gotta help! Something’s really wrong and I don’t know what and nobody else is _listening_ to me!”

Chojuro can’t stop babbling, can’t stop _shaking._ He gesticulates wildly, face flushed, eyes frantic.

“I-I don’t know who else to turn to. Everyone is treating me like I’m crazy- I don’t know what to do, but I _know_ this isn’t right, and I-”

“Just slow down and tell us what happened,” Yamato says, squeezing his arms against his sides in an effort to keep himself calm.

“I-I left for just a minute to run to the bathroom- Ao said he could handle it while I was gone- so I was just gonna be quick a-and-”

He pulls at the back of his neck, then fiddles with his heavy glasses.

“-B-by the time I got back that Shimura guy was there. Except he was sitting in the Hokage’s seat, a-and everyone was talking to him like he was a friend, e-even though he was supposed to be getting questioned! A-and everyone acted like _I_ was the crazy one for being confused! A-and that _look_ that Danzo guy gave me- I’ve never seen any sort of look like it before.”

Karin and Suigetsu sport identical confused expressions. Huddled in the corner, Shisui goes rigid.

“...All the Kage are there?” he asks.

“N-no,” Chojuro answers. “Something about the Raikage’s brother- he and the Kazekage left, and they weren't there when I got back.”

“Thank fuck,” Shisui sighs, hanging his head.

Four pairs of eyes snap over toward him.

“What do you-”

“-I’ve got a rotten feeling that Danzo just used my eye,” Shisui replies, through clenched teeth. “The Kotoamatsukami.”

“W-what does that mean?” Chojuro stammers.

“It means that we’re not gonna be able to count on the Mizukage or the Tsuchikage to be rational from this point forward.”

“What?!”

“I thought I was pretty clear on that one.”

Shisui squeezes his legs against his chest, his breath becoming unsteady.

“Bastard- so soon- I thought-”

Suigetsu pulls a face, glancing at Shisui, then at Chojuro.

“So you’re not pulling our leg or any of that shit?”

“Of course not! I-I’m scared out of my mind! Mizukage-sama has never acted this way before! A-And Ao-”

Karin chews on her knuckle, gaze fixed out the window.

“But I didn’t feel any sort of out-of-the-ordinary chakra. How could they-”

“-That’s the best part about Kotoamatsukami,” Shisui answers, darkly. “Nobody will ever even know you’re under a genjutsu. Not the victim, not anyone around them. It gets so deep in your head that your own mind rewires itself to accept the new reality.”

“B-but there’s a way to reverse it, right?” Chojuro pleads. “To break the genjutsu or-”

“-None that I know of. As far as I learned before I died, nobody’s ever been able to break Kotoamatsukami.”

“So what do we do?” Sakura asks, softly.

“Find someone who hasn’t been brainwashed and tell them what’s going on,” Shisui answers, with a shrug. “That’s about all we _can_ do.”

“He’s right,” Sakura says. “Captain Yamato, we can’t just sit here anymore.”

Yamato groans, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“I know, I know,” he grumbles, getting onto his feet. “Come on then, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To find Tsunade-sama, for starters. Along with the Kazekage and the Raikage- and Naruto and Sasuke, probably. We’ll see where we can go from there.”

He turns his attention toward Sakura.

“Go find whoever else you can get ahold of and come right back to us. It’ll be good to have backup for whatever’s coming.”

“Right.”

Sakura takes off out the same window Sasuke and Naruto had left through a few hours before. Shisui takes hold of Karin’s arm, uncertainty in his grip. Chojuro takes unsure, shaking steps, sharp teeth gritted tightly, hand curled tightly around his sword.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright?” Suigetsu asks, raising an eyebrow.  “You look a little green around the gills, if you know what I mean.”

Chojuro looks offended.

“O-of course I’ll be alright!” he stammers, with as much confidence as he can muster. “I’m still a Kiri shinobi! D-don’t underestimate me!”

Suigetsu rolls his eyes. Karin glares at him for being so rude, but bites her tongue in favor of making sure that Shisui doesn't trip over anything. He’s put so much faith in her to guide him, after all- she has to make sure she does her job well.

His brow is creased with worry, his fingers tightening around her arm when yet another unpleasant thought crosses his mind. It takes him until they’re outside, however, for him to give a voice to his thoughts.

“That guy- the one who brought Itachi back- does anybody know where he is?  They weren’t- they aren’t, I mean-”

“-I-I don’t think I saw them in the room,” Chojuro answers.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Shisui.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more help,” he mutters. “But I’m useless without my Sharingan.”

Karin decides that any answer she gives would probably just upset him more, so she opts to maintain a resolute silence.

They’ve scarcely been out of the hotel for five seconds, when a group of masked Konoha shinobi confront them with blades drawn.

“What the hell-” Yamato exclaims. “-What is the meaning of this?!”

A man in a tiger mask steps forward.

“The Rokudaime Hokage has ordered all of you under arrest,” he answers.

“What for?!” Suigetu and Karin demand in unison.

The man doesn't speak to either of them.

“Yamato-taichou, please cooperate with us. It’ll be easier for you.”

“Like hell!” Yamato hisses, placing himself between the Anbu and the teenagers placed under his care.

“It’s Hokage-sama’s orders.”

“He’s no Hokage of mine!”

“Captain,” another one warns, “we’ve been given ‘dead or alive’ orders. We’ll kill you if you resist.”

A surge of cockiness Yamato didn’t know he was capable of wells up inside him. He puts an arm out to keep Juugo back when he takes a step forward.

“I’d really like to see you try.”

He turns his head toward his haphazard assortment of kids.

“You guys heard them- they have dead or alive orders. That means we’ve got the same.”

Chojuro nods in understanding.

“I don’t even need a sword to take these assholes out,” Suigetsu smirks.

“If they’re here for us, that means they’ll be sending people after Sasuke too,” Karin realizes. “We need to hurry and find him.”

Juugo makes a small sound in agreement.

Yamato cracks his knuckles, eyes narrow, the gears in his head turning.

Karin is right. They’ll be sending people after Naruto and Sasuke. Sakura and Kakashi too. So right now, what he really wants to do is to is to get out of this situation and find Kakashi as fast as possible.

 

* * *

 

“Deidara-nii?”

Kurotsuchi doesn't get a response. Even though she wasn’t really expecting one, it still hurts, just a little.

“I got you some food,” she says, pulling up a chair so she can sit beside him.

Still no answer.

“It’s been awhile- you really should eat.”

A small, annoyed grunt.

(So, finally some sort of reaction.)

“It’s your favorite- please, Nii-”

“-Would you fucking shut _up_ already?” Deidara hisses, still not turning his head toward her. Kurotsuchi flinches. She bows her head, glaring at the tray of bakudan in her lap.

“...You’re still as _fucking_ stubborn as ever,” she grumbles, deciding to eat one of them for herself out of sheer spite. “You get it from the old man, I bet.”

“Bite me _hn._ ”

“I’ve thought about it, trust me,” Kurotsuchi growls. “Only reason I’m not is because Grandpa wants you safe.”

“I don’t see what for,” Deidara snaps, bristling like an angry cat.

“Deidara-nii, you know why-”

“-Would you stop fuckin’ calling me that, already?! We’re not kids anymore!”

Kurotsuchi slams the tray of food down on the small bedside table, rising along with her temper.

“So you’re just gonna keep up the act, then? Even though you were crying before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about _hn._ ” Deidara lies.

“Don’t bullshit me, Deidara!”

Kurotsuchi feels a sudden, overwhelming desire to slap Deidara across the face, and only barely manages to refrain- and only because she feels it’d be unfair to hit Deidara while he’s tied down. Instead, she folds her arms to keep her temper steady.

“You’ve always been like this! You ever thought about how much it fucking hurts?!”

“Funny enough, no. It isn’t really something I’ve given a lot of thought to.”

The sudden appearance of Akatsuchi cuts off any retort Kurotsuchi might make.

Without saying a word, Akatsuchi starts undoing the chains keeping Deidara bound to the hospital bed.

“H-hey, what’re you doing?” Kurotsuchi protests. “He’s not supposed to-”

“-Tsuchikage-sama said he wants him,” Akatsuchi answers, in a clipped tone that’s very unlike him.

“Ow!” Deidara protests, when his arms are roughly re-bound behind his back.

“Hey, where the fuck are we-”

No sooner is Deidara out of the cramped hospital room, he finds himself trapped in a translucent box. His and Kurotsuchi’s eyes go wide, immediately recognizing what that means. Deidara quickly masks his shock behind a smirk.

"So much for wanting me safe, eh Kuro?"

“Grandpa what are you doing?!” Kurotsuchi cries out.

“What should’ve been done the first day this ungrateful brat showed up at the village gates!”

Deidara tries to glare at Oonoki, but can’t summon the energy.

“Go ahead, turn me into dust _hn,_ ” he growls, baring his teeth. “The fuck does it matter?”

“Grandpa, no!” Kurotsuchi pleads. Akatsuchi grabs her and holds her fast when she reaches for her grandfather.

“It’s not your concern,” Oonoki scolds her, in a cold uncaring tone that’s just not like him at all. Kurotsuchi shuts her eyes tightly, unable to watch her grandfather kill someone who’d once been her dearest friend.

Deidara curses. There’s a gust of air. A strange fluttering sound. Then, a crash, and Oonoki letting out a few expletives of his own. Then, she finds herself hurled away from Akatsuchi’s grip.

When she opens her eyes, the azure-haired woman in black she’d seen earlier has Deidara in her arms, weeping openly.

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“Yeah yeah, _hn_. Just lemme go, will ya, Konan?”

Deidara shoots a dirty look at Oonoki’s unconscious form.

“What’s up with him anyway? The old man’s a fuckin’ moron, but I don’t think he’d be that eager to kill me.”

“Itachi told me that Danzo has a rare sort of genjutsu in his power,” Konan answers. “I suspect he used it.”

“Fucking genjutsu. It’s always a fucking genjutsu.”

Konan shakes her head. She tries to speak more, but is abruptly cut off. She ducks Akatsuchi’s crushing blow, and sends a barrage of origami birds at him. They leave a thousand bleeding cuts on his skin, but he seems unperturbed. Abruptly changing plans, he hurls Oonoki over his shoulder and takes off. Konan grabs Deidara and Kurotsuchi’s wrists when they try to take off after them.

“Let it be for now,” she urges. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“But grandpa-”

Konan directs her amber eyes toward Deidara.

“I need your help. We need Kisame out of prison.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that hn?”

The woman pulls out a scroll and hands it to him.

“We kept your old art supplies. They’re still in working order- I figured you might need them."

Deidara’s blue eyes light up when he unseals the scroll and is greeting by his clay and art bag.

“Well- we don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

“But my grandpa!” Kurotsuchi yells again.

“He’s obviously being looked after,” Konan sighs. “We can worry about him later. Right now we need to leave- there will be others coming soon.”

Before Kurotsuchi can protest further, Deidara grabs her hand and drags her along behind him.

 

“Alright, step back-”

A trio of clay spiders situate themselves on the hinges of the door to Kisame’s cell. Konan pulls away the unconscious guards so they aren’t hurt. A wicked glee animates Deidara’s entire being as he raises his hand up.

“ _Katsu_!”

The resulting explosion sends the steel door flying, mangled shrapnel flying in all directions.

Kisame doesn't really get the chance to act properly surprised.

“Your creepy fish face is a sight for sore eyes _hn_ ,” Deidara grins. “C’mon, things are getting fun!”

Kisame stands up, rolling his neck and squinting as the dust clears.

“Is that so?” he asks, expression carefully blank. “Well, I suppose I don’t wanna be left out then, do I?”

“With the way things are going, it’s a matter of minutes before the Mizukage sends someone in to try to kill you,” Konan elborates, while they make their dash for the exit, alarms going off all around them. “Shimura is finally making his move.”

“Took him long enough.”

Konan has a look in her eyes that could freeze hell cold.

“I’m going to kill him,” she says, flatly. “What he’s done is unforgivable.”

Kisame’s stone facade finally cracks, an ice-cold anger radiating off him.

“You’ll have to try to get there before me,” he growls.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell was that about _dattebayo_?!”

Naruto wipes a splatter of blood from his cheek, staring dumbfounded at his mentor for some sort of explanation.

Jiraiya looks from his student to the dozen or so dead bodies leeching crimson into the snow, then to Tsunade, who’s desperately trying to wipe the blood from her own hands. The gears in Tsunade’s head are turning freely, eyes darting around wildly.

“Fucking badger,” she spits.

Jiraiya frowns. Yahiko finally manages to speak.

“...Why did they try to kill us?” he mumbles.

“We’re in the way,” Jiraiya answers. “If he had us killed and captured Naruto, he’d be able to pick out a jinchuriki he likes better. Wouldn’t hurt that he could get a nice pair of Sharingan out of the deal.”

The look Sasuke gives in reaction to those words is one of undiluted rage. His hands curls around the empty air where the handle of his sword should be, then curls into a tight fist to compensate.

The sounds of shouting samurai and shinobi alike draw rapidly closer. Jiraiya pulls Yahiko and Naruto closer to him, looking toward Tsunade for reassurance.

He knows from her face that they’re thinking the same thing- unsure whether their newfound company will be friend or foe.

They don’t get to ponder on that for too long, however. A deafening roar, billowing clouds of smoke, and the entire ground starts to shake. Sasuke gets half-buried in the snow that decides to evacuate the evergreen above them. Jiraiya stumbles, and barely manages to keep himself upright. Tsunade is in his arms without warning when she’s thrown backward.

When the smoke clears, they’re met with an endless mass of black scales. Jiraiya’s eyes travel upward, higher and higher until he finds the head of a massive black snake.

And, standing on the head of the monstrous serpent, is Orochimaru. When Orochimaru moves his hand, the snake lowers him down, so he can better face the rapidly gathering crowd.

Oh, and how very beautiful Orochimaru looks.

His eyelids are painted a vibrant gold, his lips painted a deep purple. His hair is once again sleek, and shining, pulled away from his face and held back with a wickedly sharp ebony hair pin. He’s dressed like a noblewoman attending a funeral. His jewelry, his kimono, the haori, the obi, everything, black black _black._  

(Jiraiya doesn't have the presence of mind to think about why.)

He smiles placidly at the crowd that continues to grow around him. His gold eyes turn briefly toward Jiraiya and Tsunade, a glint of mischief within them.

“I bring a message from the Rice Daimyo,” he says, his voice carrying loud and clear as though he were speaking through a microphone. His smile grows wider, wilder, when he spots Danzo forcing his way through the crowd- with Sarutobi at his heels.

“Ah, the new Hokage,” Orochimaru remarks. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“-What is the meaning of this?!” Sarutobi cries out. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m merely the messenger,” Orochimaru replies, his voice still supernaturally amplified. He folds his hands demurely in front of him, as perfect and proper as a court lady.

“Messenger of what?” Danzo demands, hand tight around his cane.

“A declaration of war,” Orochimaru replies. "From today forward, the Land of Rice is formally at war with the Land of Fire- and any of its allies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one notices the big error I just had to delete X)


	32. Let it be Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Oro does a title drop. The ninja get removed from Iron Country. Everyone is picking sides. Foreshadowing for part two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter Let it be Known is officially ended. BUT the story is gonna pick right back up in Chase the Dawn, so please keep an eye out for that!   
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented, kudos-ed, bookmarked, or just took some time to read through my hot mess of an AU :) Til Chase the Dawn~

“What have you done?!” Sarutobi demands, locking eyes with his wayward student. Orochimaru pretends to be offended, laying a hand against his chest and letting out a small gasp of mock-horror.

“Me, Sensei? I didn’t do anything. Once the Daimyo heard of all the shady goings-on of the five great nations, he agreed wholeheartedly that something had to be done.”

Danzo has a look on his face that’d send rats scurrying.

“Spend a lot of time on your knees to get that agreement, Orochimaru?” he sneers.

Jiraiya doesn't miss the flinch that jolts Orochimaru’s body. It’s only for a fraction of a second, however, and he very quickly regains himself. 

He steps off the head of his summoned serpent- it vanishes in a cloud of smoke. Gold eyes narrow, a smirk curling the corners of his painted lips.

“And what if I did, Shimura?”

Danzo’s attempt at a smile comes across as more of a grimace.

“Still your mother’s son, after all these years, eh?”

There’s a flash of something dangerous in Orochimaru’s eyes.

“You have no idea.”

He tilts his head to the side, turning his eyes away from the man, toward the two men in serpent masks immediately behind him.

“Amai-kun. Hakuto-kun. It’s been far too long.”

“We were beginning to wonder if you’d show up,” the one with dark hair says, relief emanating off him. “You had us worried.”

Orochimaru’s smirk grows wider, savoring the scandalized expression on Danzo’s face.

“Unfortunately, the coup d’etat didn’t go the way the Uchiha hoped,” the tawny-haired one says, while the pair of them step forward, away from Danzo “They and their allies fled Konoha for their own lives. The Daimyo honored your request and sent help to escort the survivors to Otogakure.”

“And the Captain and his wife?”

“Fugaku-sama and Mikoto-sama are alright. They were unwilling at first, but they finally agreed to follow the others, on the condition we assure Sasuke’s safe arrival.”

Sasuke, who had been brushing off the snow that covered him, goes rigid. He glares at the two masked men.

“Please don’t worry. Like I said- they’re alright. They’ll safely arrive in Oto before nightfall, with everyone else.”

Orochimaru’s smile changes. The ice in his eyes melts away. He holds his arms out toward the two masked men, paying no heed to the anger emanating off Danzo.

“You’ve done brilliantly, little duckies.”

The two men cast their masks aside in unison, practically throwing themselves at Orochimaru. Orochimaru embraces them eagerly.

“Sensei-”

“-I’m proud of the both of you. I’m so very glad you’re well.”

He looks so genuinely  _ happy  _ to see the both of them that it manages to make Jiraiya a little uneasy.

“Orochimaru-sama!”

Kabuto’s expression resembles that of a jealous lover, Itachi trailing behind him, silent as a statue. He shoves his way past Naruto and Sasuke, looking more than a little flustered. Neither he nor Orochimaru pay any heed to the furious mutterings of their audience

“Kabuto, you made it- I’d begun to worry about you.”

“Well, it seems like our new Hokage saw fit to try and have me killed again,” Kabuto huffs. “As if this attempt would go any better than the others.”

“And you’ve accomplished everything you needed to?” Orochimaru asks.

“Unfortunately the bases in the south and east have already been overrun,” Kabuto explains. “I’ve secured the west, but the north is probably gonna go the same way as the others before too long.”

“That’s quite alright,” Orochimaru sighs, releasing his old students to give Kabuto proper attention. “As long as you’re unharmed.”

Kabuto lights up, in a rather childlike manner. He starts to speak, but the words die on his tongue when Sarutobi steps forward.

“Orochimaru,” he says, softly- so softly he’s almost not heard over the thrumming crowd. Orochimaru glances over at him, quirking a thin eyebrow at him.

“Orochimaru,” the man says, again, louder this time. “It doesn't have to be this way.”

“Hm?”

Jiraiya and Tsunade turn wary eyes toward their former teammate.

“You can still stop this.”

Hiruzen is pleading, desperate. Orochimaru cocks his head like a curious bird.

“I know you hate me, but please- the whole world doesn't need to be pulled into your hatred as well-”

“-Hate you? Sarutobi-sensei, I don’t hate you.”

The small flicker of hope in the old man’s eyes is immediately snuffed out by Orochimaru’s icy smile.

“I don’t hate you. You aren’t worth the space hating you would take up in my head.”

It seemingly takes a few seconds for the words to truly sink in. When they do, a cold realization spreads over Sarutobi’s face.

“...I’m sorry,” he says, at last. Sounding defeated, hollow. “I failed you.”

Orochimaru hides his mirthless laugh behind the silk sleeve of his kimono.

“Do you expect forgiveness, Sarutobi-sensei?” he asks, his jovial tone undercut by the dangerous way his gold eyes narrow. “I don’t have that in me. I have  _ nothing  _ for you.”

“No, I-”

“-Save your breath already  _ -ttebayo _ !”

Both Hiruzen and Orochimaru startle.

Naruto clenches his teeth tightly, balling his hands up til his knuckles go white. His voice cracks with the weight of his emotions, blue eyes full of anguish and anger.

“D-do you really think you can just say sorry and make everything go away?!” he demands, choking back a sob. “You think after everything- after what you did to Sasuke- that you can just half-ass an apology and it’s all gonna get better?!”

“Naruto-”

“-Shut up! If my dad knew how awful the both of you are he’d be spinning in his grave  _ dattebayo _ ! If that’s what being Hokage means-”

The boy wavers, just for a moment.

“-If that’s what being Hokage means then I don’t want any part of it!”

Sarutobi looks very much like he’s been stabbed through the gut. He has no words to offer the boy- Danzo, however-

“-Hmph. As naive as your father,” he sneers. “And as stupid as your mother. Why doesn't that surprise me?”

Naruto doesn't so much as blink at the harsh words.

“If being smart means turning out like  _ you,  _ I’d rather be an idiot forever- _ ttebayo _ .”

He reaches upward, grabbing the Konoha headband resting on his forehead. With one sure, steady motion, he tugs it off, and tosses it in the snow at Hiruzen’s feet.

The silence that falls is tense, and uneasy. The crunching of snow underfoot as Sakura makes her way through the crowd seems amplified a thousand times over. Pretty, rose-colored hair spills out when she pulls her own headband off, and throws it to rest beside her teammate’s.

“...I’m with you, Naruto.”

“Us too.”

In unison, Neji, Tenten and Lee step forward, casting their own headbands aside rather carelessly. 

“-Me too,” Shisui adds, tightening his hold around Karin’s arm.

“-As to be expected of the mongrel Uchiha,” Danzo growls.

“How about fuck you?” Shisui replies, unflinching.

Looking desperate, Hiruzen casts his eyes toward his other two students. Jiraiya and Tsunade lock eyes with him for one heartbeat.

“...I’m with Naruto,” Jiraiya says, after the slightest hesitation.

“-And I’m with Jiraiya,” Tsunade declares.

Orochimaru’s smile toward them is surprisingly genuine.

“I’m glad to hear it, old friends.”

He holds his hands outward, and once again his voice becomes loud.

“Let it be known that anyone else seeking refuge from the old world is welcome at Otogakure. I’ll expect we’ll be seeing many of you there shortly.”

“You-”

Before Danzo can finish his insult, Orochimaru is gone in a cloud of purple smoke.

The crowd suddenly parts, when a team of samurai walks up.

“The Iron Daimyo orders all of you shinobi to leave the country immediately,” the eldest one says. “He won’t allow this to continue any longer! We’ve been sent to make sure you  _ leave _ and stay gone.”

“...So be it, then,” Danzo grumbles, making an effort to recompose himself. “I suppose the next time I’ll be seeing  _ you  _ lot is on a battlefield.”

“As if-”

A deafening sound like a thousand birds chirping cuts through the cold air. With a roar of anger, Sasuke lunges at Danzo.

“Sasuke!”

Two of his Anbu guard spring into action, blades drawn. No sooner are their swords out of their sheathes, however, than they’re consumed in pure, black fire. They fall over, screaming in agony for a few moments before they can’t any longer. Sasuke’s head snaps backward, toward Kabuto and his elder brother.

“You didn’t need to make him do that,” he hisses.

“I  _ didn’t, _ ” Kabuto snaps back, looking both offended and a little unnerved.

The amused look Danzo gives in response to those words makes Sasuke’s blood run cold.

“Still keeping secrets, little bird?”

The pinwheel of Itachi’s Mangekyou Sharingan fades away.

“You’ve broken your promise,” he says, flatly. “So now I’ll be keeping mine.”

“You’re all leaving.  _ Now _ ,” the head samurai declares.

Sasuke turns his back and stalks off. 

“Next time I see you, I’m gonna kill you. Both of you,” he informs the two men.

“If you live that long,” Shimura replies.

Sasuke doesn't retort. He stalks off toward Kabuto.

“Take me to my mother and father,” he demands.

"So impatient," Kabuto chortles- but he obeys all the same.

 

* * *

 

The ninja are escorted out of the country in two factions: one headed back for their respective home countries-

And one, led by Kabuto headed toward Otogakure.

Seemingly the entire Iron Country’s military force has been dispatched to keep an uneasy peace until they’re at least ten miles beyond the country’s borders.

Naruto keeps his eyes fixed stubbornly ahead, not allowing himself any room for doubt.

“I leave you guys for one second, and look at the mess you made.”

Kakashi’s tone is light and teasing, but it still makes both Naruto and Sakura jump.

“Sorry I’m late. I was catching up with an old friend.”

“Huh? Kakashi-sensei, who’s-”

Kakashi musters up a smile.

“Guys, this is Obito. Obito, these are my students. I don’t think you’ve properly met.”

Both Sakura and Naruto have a few moments of uneasy silence. But soon enough, Naruto smiles, as well.

“Better late than never  _ dattebayo _ ! I’m glad you could join the party!”

“It’s just getting started,” Obito says, the barest hint of mirth in his voice. “I hope you realize what you’ve gotten into.”

Naruto frowns. He looks toward Sakura, looking so uncertain by his side. Toward Sasuke up ahead of them, steely-eyed and determined. Toward Jiraiya and Tsunade at the front, shoulders bowed with the weight of what they’ve just done. Then, finally, back toward Kakashi and his sudden new companion.

“I really don’t,” he admits. “But whatever it is I’ll be ready for it.”

 


End file.
